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 Ukraine and from Lille.
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 Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Adolescents 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Copeland,
Don Cherry,
The Mojo Men,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
World's Most,
Sun City Girls,
Josef K,
Arab on Radar,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Graham Central Station,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
F. McDonald,
The Modern Lovers,
John Foxx,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
Can,
The Names,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rites of Spring,
Electric Prunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Suicide,
Connie Case,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
The Happenings,
Jimmy McGriff,
Warsaw,
The Motions,
Morten Harket,
The Doobie Brothers,
Main Source,
Sixth Finger,
Model 500,
DNA,
Delta 5,
Flash Fearless,
Silicon Teens,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Adolescents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
Vainqueur,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alice Coltrane,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.