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 Finland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Charles Mingus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Mantronix,
The Dirtbombs,
Groovy Waters,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gories,
John Holt,
Sandy B,
Byron Stingily,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dawn Penn,
Davy DMX,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Copeland,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Sarah Menescal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sun Ra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yusef Lateef,
Camberwell Now,
The Walker Brothers,
Pylon,
Lungfish,
Pantaleimon,
Kerri Chandler,
Kurtis Blow,
Soul Sonic Force,
D'Angelo,
Thompson Twins,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neu!,
Angry Samoans,
Black Pus,
The Saints,
Deadbeat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Lydon,
Mark Hollis,
Ultra Naté,
The Vogues,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Warren Ellis,
Delta 5,
Simply Red,
PIL,
Moebius,
Minnie Riperton,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.