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 Macedonia and from Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Country Teasers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Junior Murvin,
Bang On A Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brand Nubian,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Sherman,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camouflage,
The Invisible,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Cell,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra,
Erykah Badu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Niagra,
The Real Kids,
The Index,
Eric Copeland,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
Gong,
Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
The Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Ronan,
Sonny Sharrock,
These Immortal Souls,
Make Up,
Loose Ends,
ABC,
Malaria!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wings,
Jandek,
Arcadia,
Susan Cadogan,
The Searchers,
Dave Gahan,
Radio Birdman,
Sun City Girls,
Clear Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
K-Klass,
The Happenings,
The Busters,
Pantaleimon,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Motions,
Excepter,
Deepchord,
The Evens,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.