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 the UAE and from Copenhagen.
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 Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Malaria! to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
ABC,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magma,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
The Stooges,
Harry Pussy,
Grey Daturas,
Severed Heads,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cameo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sam Rivers,
Eddi Front,
Pere Ubu,
The Cure,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
Motorama,
Pet Shop Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stereo Dub,
The Last Poets,
Organ,
The Gories,
Bob Dylan,
The Golliwogs,
Davy DMX,
T. Rex,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mummies,
Joyce Sims,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Moon,
Soft Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Massinfluence,
Talk Talk,
Robert Wyatt,
Con Funk Shun,
D'Angelo,
Tom Boy,
Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun City Girls,
Marine Girls,
Ludus,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Theoretical Girls,
The Count Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Can,
Gang Green,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.