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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pantaleimon 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Blancmange,
Kurtis Blow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
Au Pairs,
Nas,
Second Layer,
Surgeon,
Arcadia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boredoms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Intrusion,
Von Mondo,
Prince Buster,
R.M.O.,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Janne Schatter,
The Martian,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sparks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Subhumans,
Depeche Mode,
John Holt,
Eric Copeland,
Kaleidoscope,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Althea and Donna,
The Beau Brummels,
Panda Bear,
Loose Ends,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
Derrick May,
Robert Hood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Susan Cadogan,
Television,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amazonics,
Agitation Free,
Japan,
Donny Hathaway,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fortunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marmalade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aswad,
Max Romeo,
Rakim,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.