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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Smoke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Barry Ungar,
Darondo,
The Zeros,
MDC,
Susan Cadogan,
Anakelly,
Althea and Donna,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
Barbara Tucker,
Lucky Dragons,
the Association,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
Nas,
Joensuu 1685,
Oblivians,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Agent Orange,
Pulsallama,
EPMD,
The Offenders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
DNA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Charles Mingus,
The Five Americans,
Arab on Radar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ice-T,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Selecter,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Blackbyrds,
Infiniti,
Television Personalities,
Drive Like Jehu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Connie Case,
Camberwell Now,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Cecil Taylor,
Circle Jerks,
David Axelrod,
Sugar Minott,
Erykah Badu,
Bush Tetras,
Soul Sonic Force,
Iggy Pop,
ABBA,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Monolake,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.