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 Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Barracudas to the rock 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 Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
Quantec,
Throbbing Gristle,
MDC,
Accadde A,
Isaac Hayes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-102,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Alice Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Beau Brummels,
Qualms,
World's Most,
Al Stewart,
Malaria!,
EPMD,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Crash Course in Science,
The Martian,
the Slits,
Jawbox,
Slave,
The Victims,
Depeche Mode,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Smooth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
Jeff Mills,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Rundgren,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Suburban Knight,
John Cale,
Archie Shepp,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pantytec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crooked Eye,
John Coltrane,
Simply Red,
David McCallum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moebius,
The American Breed,
Boredoms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ludus,
Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.