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 Belize and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 U.S. Maple to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Real Kids,
Model 500,
Roger Hodgson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harmonia,
Index,
The Smoke,
DJ Sneak,
Darondo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cure,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boredoms,
Black Moon,
Joe Finger,
Gong,
Das Ding,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deakin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Whodini,
Bad Manners,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultra Naté,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Zeros,
Metal Thangz,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quadrant,
Flipper,
Bobby Womack,
JFA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Altered Images,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Masters at Work,
The New Christs,
Cheater Slicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Franke,
Jacob Miller,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skriet,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smiths,
Average White Band,
Eurythmics,
the Germs,
Flash Fearless,
Fluxion,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
Negative Approach,
Zero Boys,
Agitation Free,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dead Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.