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 Belarus and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Q65 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths 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?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Prince Buster,
The Raincoats,
Clear Light,
EPMD,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Stereo Dub,
Faraquet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
Archie Shepp,
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nils Olav,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Machine,
Pylon,
The Toasters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
The Associates,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pole,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
Bad Manners,
The Modern Lovers,
Groovy Waters,
Funky Four + One,
8 Eyed Spy,
Subhumans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sarah Menescal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ultravox,
The Happenings,
a-ha,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Deakin,
Half Japanese,
Terry Callier,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
the Human League,
Sonic Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wire,
DJ Sneak,
Y Pants,
Isaac Hayes,
Magazine,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.