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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Byron Stingily to the disco 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Görl,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Style,
The Red Krayola,
The Moleskins,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rosa Yemen,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Green,
Thee Headcoats,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
Maurizio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Section 25,
The Count Five,
Albert Ayler,
Infiniti,
Angry Samoans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sister Nancy,
Accadde A,
Warsaw,
Robert Wyatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Magazine,
The Trojans,
The Real Kids,
Godley & Creme,
Television,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Subhumans,
Bill Near,
Terrestrial Tones,
Henry Cow,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
The Five Americans,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young,
The Durutti Column,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scratch Acid,
Althea and Donna,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cowsills,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig,
Joe Finger,
Monolake,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.