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 Taiwan and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Agitation Free to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Angry Samoans,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gap Band,
Kas Product,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Henry Cow,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Womack,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sister Nancy,
Symarip,
Q and Not U,
Jacob Miller,
Todd Terry,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Half Japanese,
Subhumans,
Das Ding,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Pulsallama,
Gichy Dan,
Groovy Waters,
Sparks,
Slave,
KRS-One,
Anakelly,
Organ,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arab on Radar,
Stetsasonic,
Aural Exciters,
Slick Rick,
CMW,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
L. Decosne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smoke,
Dual Sessions,
Judy Mowatt,
Arcadia,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scan 7,
Camouflage,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Rundgren,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Star Department,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glambeats Corp.,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra,
Dawn Penn,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.