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 Hungary and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Smiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Joey Negro,
The Fuzztones,
The Count Five,
Hasil Adkins,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Janne Schatter,
Thompson Twins,
The Walker Brothers,
Magma,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
Grey Daturas,
Tommy Roe,
Basic Channel,
Soft Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kaleidoscope,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fortunes,
The Moody Blues,
B.T. Express,
The Victims,
Bobby Womack,
The Last Poets,
Banda Bassotti,
Lebanon Hanover,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lower 48,
L. Decosne,
Mandrill,
Altered Images,
Susan Cadogan,
Animal Collective,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Crooked Eye,
Schoolly D,
Surgeon,
the Normal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultra Naté,
Fluxion,
Moss Icon,
The Knickerbockers,
The Music Machine,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minor Threat,
The Monks,
The Sound,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.