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 Syria and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Derrick May to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
Sarah Menescal,
Gong,
The Slackers,
Crooked Eye,
Pantaleimon,
Icehouse,
Marvin Gaye,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Sheep,
Desert Stars,
The Motions,
Albert Ayler,
Underground Resistance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crime,
Roxette,
The Slits,
The Fortunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
Crispian St. Peters,
FM Einheit,
Eddi Front,
U.S. Maple,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fuzztones,
PIL,
L. Decosne,
The Five Americans,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Christie,
Boz Scaggs,
CMW,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed,
Mission of Burma,
The Barracudas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Stooges,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
The Doobie Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Pierre Henry,
Eurythmics,
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
David Axelrod,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soulsonic Force,
June Days,
Bush Tetras,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.