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 Sri Lanka and from Bologna.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Lou Reed to the funk 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Mars,
The Victims,
Robert Görl,
Ronnie Foster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tomorrow,
The Move,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fad Gadget,
Marmalade,
The Moody Blues,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gun Club,
Alton Ellis,
Bluetip,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
The Monks,
Siglo XX,
Dennis Brown,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Wake,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Darondo,
Kerri Chandler,
Echospace,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gabor Szabo,
Reuben Wilson,
Make Up,
Traffic Nightmare,
The New Christs,
Rekid,
The Cramps,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Real Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glenn Branca,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Massinfluence,
E-Dancer,
Gang Green,
World's Most,
Bill Wells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Organ,
Section 25,
Kenny Larkin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter and Kerry,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.