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 Philippines and from New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Holger Czukay 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 Quadrant to the funk 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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
June of 44,
Simply Red,
Rapeman,
Agent Orange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dawn Penn,
Duran Duran,
Quando Quango,
Easy Going,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
Warsaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roxette,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Oneida,
Drive Like Jehu,
Carl Craig,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
Quantec,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skaos,
Neu!,
The Standells,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Howard Jones,
X-101,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rod Modell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Main Source,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry's Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
The Offenders,
K-Klass,
The Gories,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
Brand Nubian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
ABBA,
LL Cool J,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
D'Angelo,
Kurtis Blow,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dark Day,
Erykah Badu,
Bootsy Collins,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.