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 Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin 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 David Axelrod to the crunk 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Funkadelic,
MDC,
David Bowie,
Desert Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-101,
The Doors,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fugs,
Wire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Little Man,
Arcadia,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Aloha Tigers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hardrive,
Henry Cow,
Kurtis Blow,
Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
Donald Byrd,
The Motions,
Derrick May,
the Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camouflage,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gories,
The Raincoats,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Howard Jones,
Kayak,
kango's stein massive,
Pierre Henry,
Tom Boy,
Lou Christie,
Robert Hood,
Con Funk Shun,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Surgeon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Trojans,
Chris Corsano,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.