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 Madagascar and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Curtis Mayfield to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lindisfarne,
Pole,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Sheep,
Visage,
Avey Tare,
JFA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Barbara Tucker,
New York Dolls,
Bang On A Can,
T. Rex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Erykah Badu,
R.M.O.,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Index,
Y Pants,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Happenings,
Bobby Womack,
Graham Central Station,
Motorama,
Ultra Naté,
Letta Mbulu,
Schoolly D,
The Misunderstood,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lightning Bolt,
Bronski Beat,
Glenn Branca,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
Popol Vuh,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fela Kuti,
Aural Exciters,
Crooked Eye,
Henry Cow,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Starr,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.