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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
a-ha,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Christie,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
Rakim,
Nirvana,
The Walker Brothers,
Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Idris Muhammad,
Albert Ayler,
Bob Dylan,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
Marine Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare,
Mr. Review,
Procol Harum,
Mad Mike,
The Techniques,
The Fugs,
kango's stein massive,
Television Personalities,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
Theoretical Girls,
The Motions,
Blancmange,
Yellowson,
Minnie Riperton,
Crime,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Angels of Light,
Echospace,
Prince Buster,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
Aloha Tigers,
Pulsallama,
Dennis Brown,
Visage,
Slick Rick,
Scientists,
Isaac Hayes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Stooges,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
Leonard Cohen,
10cc,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.