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 Gabon 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Gong to the techno 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
The Birthday Party,
the Slits,
The Raincoats,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sex Pistols,
Ornette Coleman,
The Star Department,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Monks,
Little Man,
Massinfluence,
Mad Mike,
Mr. Review,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nils Olav,
Bush Tetras,
Iggy Pop,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Absolute Body Control,
The Evens,
Minny Pops,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Charles Mingus,
The Names,
Bronski Beat,
Danielle Patucci,
Maurizio,
Sixth Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scion,
The Saints,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Rekid,
Schoolly D,
Sarah Menescal,
Crime,
Marc Almond,
Quantec,
The Leaves,
James White and The Blacks,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zero Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Los Fastidios,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Move,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minutemen,
Accadde A,
The Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.