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 Vanuatu and from Beijing.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eric Dolphy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Rekid,
Trumans Water,
Ronnie Foster,
The Barracudas,
R.M.O.,
Mandrill,
CMW,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Order,
Television,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
MC5,
Soft Machine,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Todd Terry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Q and Not U,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alphaville,
The Raincoats,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Harmonia,
Peter & Gordon,
Babytalk,
Negative Approach,
Spandau Ballet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pulsallama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Modern Lovers,
Leonard Cohen,
PIL,
Warren Ellis,
Organ,
The Techniques,
Young Marble Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Aloha Tigers,
Roger Hodgson,
JFA,
Henry Cow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Selecter,
Joensuu 1685,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lungfish,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
The Grass Roots,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.