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 Samoa and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the punk 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
World's Most,
Maleditus Sound,
Fugazi,
Connie Case,
Oneida,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Real Kids,
Quantec,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
Ice-T,
Rekid,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crash Course in Science,
Marine Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers,
X-102,
Roxy Music,
Model 500,
Judy Mowatt,
Kaleidoscope,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Sun Ra,
The Last Poets,
Nico,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
Jawbox,
Joy Division,
U.S. Maple,
Erasure,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultravox,
The Seeds,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Blackbyrds,
Arab on Radar,
Neu!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Axelrod,
The Monks,
Sugar Minott,
Japan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ituana,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mummies,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.