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 Korea South and from Bremen.
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 Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ultravox to the rock 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
Grey Daturas,
The Fall,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Excepter,
Newcleus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blancmange,
Public Enemy,
Yusef Lateef,
Vainqueur,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
B.T. Express,
Kerrie Biddell,
Henry Cow,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Unrelated Segments,
Deadbeat,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
Albert Ayler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sällskapet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Livin' Joy,
Lungfish,
Juan Atkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Remains,
Robert Görl,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxette,
DJ Sneak,
Qualms,
X-101,
Babytalk,
Mr. Review,
The Names,
Roxy Music,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Moody Blues,
Nas,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ornette Coleman,
The American Breed,
Interpol,
a-ha,
Shuggie Otis,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Soft Machine,
Audionom,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.