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 Montenegro and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Velvet Underground,
The Durutti Column,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
Goldenarms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Liliput,
Carl Craig,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scion,
The Names,
Graham Central Station,
Iggy Pop,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stereo Dub,
Harry Pussy,
Duran Duran,
The Busters,
Ice-T,
Stiv Bators,
a-ha,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gories,
Television,
Young Marble Giants,
Sällskapet,
Zero Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
Glenn Branca,
Zapp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Count Five,
Moby Grape,
The Standells,
Steve Hackett,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Magma,
Lalann,
Anakelly,
Shoche,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Derrick Morgan,
Rod Modell,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
The Leaves,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Wells,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
The Toasters,
Black Moon,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.