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 Peru and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Cale to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Scion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
The Doobie Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Altered Images,
Ultravox,
Wolf Eyes,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
Sight & Sound,
A Certain Ratio,
The Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Panda Bear,
Joe Smooth,
The Martian,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
Eric Copeland,
The Skatalites,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed,
Fatback Band,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Names,
The Divine Comedy,
Unrelated Segments,
E-Dancer,
Porter Ricks,
Masters at Work,
John Cale,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barry Ungar,
The Gories,
D'Angelo,
Anakelly,
Pagans,
Wally Richardson,
Aural Exciters,
The Moleskins,
Ohio Players,
The Star Department,
Lightning Bolt,
The Move,
The Pretty Things,
Bauhaus,
Siglo XX,
Bill Wells,
Technova,
The Misunderstood,
Half Japanese,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.