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 Jamaica and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Donald Fagen 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Joe Finger,
Niagra,
Magazine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Derrick May,
Cybotron,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Scrapy,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
Dark Day,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roxette,
Procol Harum,
Radio Birdman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Robert Hood,
Gastr Del Sol,
T. Rex,
Fad Gadget,
Drexciya,
Urselle,
Easy Going,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Junior Murvin,
Scion,
KRS-One,
The Martian,
Ultravox,
Thee Headcoats,
Nas,
Agent Orange,
Jacques Brel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Suicide,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June of 44,
Pantaleimon,
Moebius,
Joyce Sims,
OOIOO,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Goldenarms,
Young Marble Giants,
Byron Stingily,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Los Fastidios,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Simply Red,
Von Mondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
Public Enemy,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.