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 the UAE and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Henry Cow to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Ludus,
Altered Images,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
Suburban Knight,
Can,
Ornette Coleman,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ken Boothe,
OOIOO,
Blancmange,
Make Up,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
Ponytail,
Deakin,
The Last Poets,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fatback Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Young Marble Giants,
Interpol,
Sarah Menescal,
Junior Murvin,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
David Axelrod,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Parrish,
Warsaw,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Techniques,
Eve St. Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
Dennis Brown,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
The Moody Blues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
a-ha,
Fela Kuti,
Scratch Acid,
Sound Behaviour,
The Blues Magoos,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.