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 Pakistan 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Babytalk to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a It's A Beautiful Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Aaron Thompson,
Monks,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang On A Can,
Reuben Wilson,
Derrick May,
The Last Poets,
The Pop Group,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronnie Foster,
Vainqueur,
Rosa Yemen,
Accadde A,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yazoo,
Ludus,
The Moleskins,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
Skaos,
E-Dancer,
H. Thieme,
Chris & Cosey,
T. Rex,
The Toasters,
Andrew Hill,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Malaria!,
The Fuzztones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Alison Limerick,
U.S. Maple,
kango's stein massive,
Cal Tjader,
Mo-Dettes,
Susan Cadogan,
Michelle Simonal,
LL Cool J,
Bush Tetras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
Unwound,
The Count Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
New Order,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cramps,
Brick,
The Dirtbombs,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.