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 Bahrain and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 Bobby Sherman to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Remains,
The Searchers,
Yazoo,
Mad Mike,
Radio Birdman,
The Barracudas,
Amazonics,
Television Personalities,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Mills,
Rosa Yemen,
Kayak,
Tubeway Army,
Goldenarms,
Blancmange,
Steve Hackett,
Hot Snakes,
Nik Kershaw,
Jacques Brel,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
The American Breed,
Aural Exciters,
Ludus,
Fad Gadget,
Talk Talk,
Erasure,
the Association,
The Gun Club,
In Retrospect,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hoover,
Minny Pops,
The Last Poets,
The Slackers,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Babytalk,
Iggy Pop,
Easy Going,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
Sister Nancy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lower 48,
Josef K,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Malaria!,
Massinfluence,
Pierre Henry,
The Red Krayola,
Nirvana,
Gabor Szabo,
Q and Not U,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.