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 Uganda and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 New Order to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Ken Boothe,
The Red Krayola,
Simply Red,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
Sex Pistols,
Blake Baxter,
The Buckinghams,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
E-Dancer,
Gang of Four,
The Litter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Can,
Rhythm & Sound,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
R.M.O.,
Yellowson,
Television Personalities,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
Erasure,
Gabor Szabo,
Main Source,
The Motions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fela Kuti,
Tears for Fears,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
Surgeon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerri Chandler,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gichy Dan,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Sun City Girls,
Babytalk,
Soulsonic Force,
Ossler,
Arthur Verocai,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric Copeland,
The Moleskins,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.