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 Toronto.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Modern Lovers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlback,
Little Man,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quando Quango,
Patti Smith,
Warsaw,
Kerri Chandler,
Sister Nancy,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
The J.B.'s,
Wire,
Buzzcocks,
kango's stein massive,
The Blackbyrds,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roy Ayers,
La Düsseldorf,
Kurtis Blow,
Circle Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Negative Approach,
Yaz,
Groovy Waters,
Robert Hood,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gap Band,
The Five Americans,
Camberwell Now,
Delta 5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Albert Ayler,
H. Thieme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minnie Riperton,
Flipper,
Erasure,
Duran Duran,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gichy Dan,
The Fuzztones,
Monks,
Prince Buster,
Half Japanese,
Nirvana,
Niagra,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Remains,
Ponytail,
Yazoo,
Deakin,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Bananas,
The Last Poets,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.