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 El Salvador and from Lyon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Moby Grape to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Zapp,
Sight & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
Sällskapet,
Man Parrish,
Brass Construction,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Masters at Work,
Pantaleimon,
Cybotron,
AZ,
MC5,
The Litter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Music Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
EPMD,
The Smoke,
Yaz,
The Techniques,
Grey Daturas,
Heaven 17,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Wyatt,
The Victims,
Quando Quango,
Sandy B,
T. Rex,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arab on Radar,
Barrington Levy,
Au Pairs,
China Crisis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Guru Guru,
Whodini,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Divine Comedy,
Chrome,
Gichy Dan,
Bill Wells,
The Pop Group,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
Icehouse,
the Fania All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
the Soft Cell,
The Fall,
Fluxion,
Gabor Szabo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Coltrane,
the Slits,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.