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 South Sudan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 The Saints to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cramps,
The Fortunes,
Qualms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skaos,
James White and The Blacks,
Grey Daturas,
Subhumans,
The Fire Engines,
Make Up,
Matthew Bourne,
Deakin,
Rapeman,
Q65,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angry Samoans,
Sixth Finger,
Icehouse,
Junior Murvin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dual Sessions,
Drexciya,
Mr. Review,
Jerry's Kids,
Suburban Knight,
Wings,
Blancmange,
The Standells,
The Blackbyrds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aaron Thompson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Todd Rundgren,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bauhaus,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Magazine,
Bobby Sherman,
The Birthday Party,
The Gladiators,
Young Marble Giants,
Robert Görl,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Wells,
Television Personalities,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cluster,
Todd Terry,
Supertramp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.