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 Thailand and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Avey Tare to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cameo,
The Grass Roots,
Dual Sessions,
New Order,
Los Fastidios,
Quantec,
Reuben Wilson,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harry Pussy,
The Black Dice,
the Germs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Standells,
Franke,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Deadbeat,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cowsills,
ABBA,
Ossler,
Swans,
Lakeside,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
Cybotron,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
The Last Poets,
Monks,
The Barracudas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Niagra,
Procol Harum,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Morten Harket,
Erykah Badu,
Babytalk,
New Age Steppers,
Rekid,
The Durutti Column,
The Young Rascals,
The American Breed,
Main Source,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wings,
Liliput,
Althea and Donna,
The Smoke,
Scratch Acid,
The Angels of Light,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.