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 Belize and from London.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 MDC to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Janne Schatter,
Dual Sessions,
Tommy Roe,
Babytalk,
Technova,
Idris Muhammad,
The Golliwogs,
Los Fastidios,
Pagans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Negative Approach,
Junior Murvin,
Malaria!,
Archie Shepp,
Lyres,
The Music Machine,
Sam Rivers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moebius,
World's Most,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tres Demented,
David Bowie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Girls At Our Best!,
D'Angelo,
The Cowsills,
John Cale,
The Slackers,
Erykah Badu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joyce Sims,
Urselle,
Anthony Braxton,
Lebanon Hanover,
Newcleus,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Can,
Maleditus Sound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wire,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nas,
AZ,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scratch Acid,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Procol Harum,
The Durutti Column,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.