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 Malaysia and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Whodini 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Groovy Waters,
Harry Pussy,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Invisible,
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Donny Hathaway,
Ludus,
The Golliwogs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soft Machine,
Duran Duran,
The Gun Club,
Supertramp,
Donald Byrd,
Harmonia,
Angry Samoans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dead Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier,
In Retrospect,
Siglo XX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Circle Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Section 25,
Infiniti,
Don Cherry,
The Seeds,
The Martian,
The Human League,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Josef K,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Severed Heads,
Crooked Eye,
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Clear Light,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hoover,
Interpol,
The Vogues,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dennis Brown,
Bill Wells,
Judy Mowatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
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.