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 Guyana and from Portland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Smiths 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
The Trojans,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Swans,
Accadde A,
The Zeros,
Banda Bassotti,
Soul II Soul,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gories,
Cal Tjader,
Lou Christie,
Howard Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fluxion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Byrd,
The Cowsills,
Infiniti,
Juan Atkins,
The American Breed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Livin' Joy,
Simply Red,
Roger Hodgson,
Can,
Quantec,
New Order,
Vainqueur,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Clarke,
Neil Young,
Loose Ends,
Absolute Body Control,
Oneida,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
Royal Trux,
Rod Modell,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dead C,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
Blossom Toes,
Main Source,
the Bar-Kays,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
The Saints,
Crime,
Au Pairs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Carl Craig,
Swell Maps,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The 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.