Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tanzania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Monochrome Set to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lalann,
Clear Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Organ,
Ossler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Youth Brigade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Neon Judgement,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Byrd,
The Black Dice,
T.S.O.L.,
Fugazi,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dave Gahan,
Neu!,
June of 44,
Dead Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
PIL,
Nirvana,
Connie Case,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
AZ,
Animal Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
Josef K,
Franke,
Unwound,
Alison Limerick,
Anthony Braxton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Shuggie Otis,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delon & Dalcan,
Danielle Patucci,
Porter Ricks,
Idris Muhammad,
Nik Kershaw,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deepchord,
Scion,
New York Dolls,
Niagra,
the Swans,
Black Bananas,
Khruangbin,
Al Stewart,
New Age Steppers,
K-Klass,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.