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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Symarip to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Simply Red,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lyres,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Terry Callier,
Patti Smith,
Sparks,
Bauhaus,
The Golliwogs,
Kayak,
AZ,
Make Up,
Kaleidoscope,
Blake Baxter,
Guru Guru,
Grauzone,
The Dead C,
Radiohead,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
Radio Birdman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Erasure,
New York Dolls,
Joensuu 1685,
Frankie Knuckles,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
Easy Going,
the Germs,
John Holt,
Jerry's Kids,
Infiniti,
Newcleus,
Pere Ubu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gap Band,
The Residents,
June of 44,
Tommy Roe,
John Lydon,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
Juan Atkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Davy DMX,
The Seeds,
Andrew Hill,
Livin' Joy,
FM Einheit,
Unwound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Chris & Cosey,
Mission of Burma,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.