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 Uzbekistan and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pantaleimon to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Smiths,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Davy DMX,
The Remains,
Dual Sessions,
The Saints,
Yaz,
La Düsseldorf,
The Blues Magoos,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
Cheater Slicks,
Pussy Galore,
the Association,
John Lydon,
The Zeros,
Peter & Gordon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rapeman,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Franke,
The Associates,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
Half Japanese,
Cameo,
The Stooges,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Groovy Waters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Malaria!,
Minutemen,
Qualms,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Searchers,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
The Victims,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Hood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Count Five,
Wings,
Tears for Fears,
Altered Images,
Cybotron,
Chrome,
Harry Pussy,
Kayak,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.