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 Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Erasure to the rap 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Red Krayola,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stiv Bators,
Marvin Gaye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Talk Talk,
Royal Trux,
Eurythmics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Pagans,
Fela Kuti,
Gang of Four,
Duran Duran,
The Fall,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q65,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Star Department,
The Black Dice,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Schoolly D,
Blossom Toes,
The Slackers,
Soft Cell,
the Slits,
The Slits,
Altered Images,
Warsaw,
Nils Olav,
Dead Boys,
Marc Almond,
Davy DMX,
Quantec,
Kaleidoscope,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Whodini,
The Cramps,
Andrew Hill,
Aloha Tigers,
Au Pairs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sound,
Negative Approach,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
CMW,
T. Rex,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter and Kerry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Theoretical Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scott Walker,
Dennis Brown,
Index,
a-ha,
Stereo Dub,
Archie Shepp,
The Golliwogs,
Morten Harket,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.