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 Syria and from Shanghai.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Blancmange 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
kango's stein massive,
The Mojo Men,
The Trojans,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
Roxy Music,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
China Crisis,
Nick Fraelich,
the Soft Cell,
ABBA,
Pole,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roy Ayers,
Babytalk,
Pussy Galore,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joey Negro,
Country Teasers,
The Moody Blues,
The Modern Lovers,
Cluster,
Symarip,
Fad Gadget,
Erykah Badu,
Sight & Sound,
Barry Ungar,
Suburban Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
Delta 5,
The Gories,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
JFA,
Toni Rubio,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wasted Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Bronski Beat,
E-Dancer,
Joyce Sims,
Duran Duran,
Nas,
Boredoms,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine,
Accadde A,
Marc Almond,
John Foxx,
Pantytec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Faraquet,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
Roxette,
Joensuu 1685,
Gerry Rafferty,
Absolute Body Control,
Barrington Levy,
Alphaville,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.