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 Bangladesh and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Altered Images to the grime 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Saccharine Trust,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neil Young,
The Moody Blues,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Green,
The Standells,
Dave Gahan,
Arthur Verocai,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Severed Heads,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Sherman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Carl Craig,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Electric Prunes,
Henry Cow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Letta Mbulu,
Cameo,
The Barracudas,
Anthony Braxton,
Metal Thangz,
Kevin Saunderson,
Charles Mingus,
The Litter,
Motorama,
Tears for Fears,
Moebius,
The Vogues,
Fat Boys,
Amazonics,
Swell Maps,
The Wake,
Chris Corsano,
Alphaville,
The Cowsills,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ohio Players,
Roxy Music,
Sandy B,
Circle Jerks,
Youth Brigade,
Nirvana,
Arab on Radar,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.