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 Suriname and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gang Starr to the grime 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Magma,
Junior Murvin,
Funky Four + One,
Black Moon,
The Smoke,
Kurtis Blow,
Half Japanese,
CMW,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eve St. Jones,
The Kinks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed,
Gastr Del Sol,
Swans,
Davy DMX,
Stetsasonic,
Babytalk,
Aswad,
The Barracudas,
Todd Rundgren,
The United States of America,
U.S. Maple,
Lightning Bolt,
Roger Hodgson,
PIL,
Minny Pops,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Joy Division,
Radio Birdman,
June Days,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
F. McDonald,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
kango's stein massive,
Eli Mardock,
Spoonie Gee,
Rosa Yemen,
Lower 48,
Glenn Branca,
Audionom,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
Marc Almond,
June of 44,
Ludus,
The Searchers,
The Names,
The Standells,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Techniques,
Rufus Thomas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Niagra,
Tom Boy,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.