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 Hungary and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Arcadia to the disco 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Bourne,
Kas Product,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Womack,
The Slackers,
Blake Baxter,
Connie Case,
Erasure,
Wally Richardson,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vainqueur,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camouflage,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party,
Althea and Donna,
Young Marble Giants,
The Tremeloes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Byron Stingily,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond,
Deepchord,
Pere Ubu,
Intrusion,
Toni Rubio,
Whodini,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Carl Craig,
Minny Pops,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Swell Maps,
MC5,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Wyatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barry Ungar,
One Last Wish,
The Real Kids,
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barbara Tucker,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Accadde A,
The Names,
Mandrill,
The Blues Magoos,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.