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 Nepal 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 AZ to the punk 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Electric Prunes,
Eve St. Jones,
The Kinks,
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
The Fortunes,
Slick Rick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Technova,
The Gladiators,
The Tremeloes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Idris Muhammad,
The Stooges,
Joe Smooth,
Television,
David Axelrod,
The Associates,
Buzzcocks,
Arcadia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eric Copeland,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Tears for Fears,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drexciya,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
James White and The Blacks,
Cameo,
June of 44,
Eli Mardock,
Joey Negro,
Yusef Lateef,
Carl Craig,
Khruangbin,
T. Rex,
The Slits,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roger Hodgson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cowsills,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Techniques,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Cale,
Magazine,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
Sugar Minott,
The Star Department,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.