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 Qatar and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Derrick May to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cramps,
Crime,
Lucky Dragons,
Con Funk Shun,
Cameo,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
X-102,
Robert Wyatt,
Reagan Youth,
Prince Buster,
Faraquet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bill Wells,
Skriet,
The Stooges,
Bang On A Can,
Bizarre Inc.,
Organ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
JFA,
Moby Grape,
Grauzone,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Offenders,
The Slackers,
Bluetip,
Carl Craig,
Robert Hood,
Bauhaus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiohead,
Minny Pops,
Fat Boys,
Aswad,
Delta 5,
Icehouse,
Sam Rivers,
Unrelated Segments,
Andrew Hill,
Funkadelic,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vladislav Delay,
the Fania All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Basic Channel,
Rosa Yemen,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.