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 Ecuador 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Count Five to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Saints,
Interpol,
Ultra Naté,
The Litter,
Agent Orange,
Kevin Saunderson,
The United States of America,
Ice-T,
China Crisis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Mark Hollis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ronan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Procol Harum,
Jacques Brel,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
Max Romeo,
Josef K,
Gregory Isaacs,
Make Up,
Janne Schatter,
Faraquet,
The Gories,
Sällskapet,
Zero Boys,
Hasil Adkins,
The Misunderstood,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quadrant,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Human League,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
Black Bananas,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Severed Heads,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roger Hodgson,
Scott Walker,
PIL,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Almond,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Shoche,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.