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 India and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
The Saints,
the Slits,
Harry Pussy,
Con Funk Shun,
The Star Department,
Al Stewart,
The Slackers,
The Fire Engines,
Neu!,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Slave,
Kayak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists,
Jacob Miller,
Lakeside,
Wolf Eyes,
the Swans,
Model 500,
Crooked Eye,
Main Source,
Gong,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Albert Ayler,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
Minutemen,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Barbara Tucker,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Selecter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siglo XX,
The Names,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
Gang Starr,
Gastr Del Sol,
48th St. Collective,
The Black Dice,
The Techniques,
Flipper,
Simply Red,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels,
Amon Düül,
Byron Stingily,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonic Youth,
Bauhaus,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.