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 Hungary and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Real Kids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Mummies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Archie Shepp,
Fatback Band,
Bang On A Can,
Loose Ends,
Buzzcocks,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young,
Faraquet,
Lightning Bolt,
A Certain Ratio,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ten City,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terry Callier,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Swans,
Niagra,
Con Funk Shun,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans,
The Martian,
Yazoo,
Altered Images,
Gregory Isaacs,
Qualms,
Spoonie Gee,
Arab on Radar,
Model 500,
Magazine,
The Wake,
The Move,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
Sonic Youth,
Jeff Lynne,
Mr. Review,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantaleimon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Dolphy,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
Shuggie Otis,
Von Mondo,
JFA,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.