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 Bahamas and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
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 snare 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 The Modern Lovers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
the Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Average White Band,
Wire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spandau Ballet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Neu!,
Dave Gahan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pagans,
Ken Boothe,
Minny Pops,
Davy DMX,
Idris Muhammad,
Lalo Schifrin,
kango's stein massive,
Heaven 17,
Judy Mowatt,
Unwound,
Erykah Badu,
Josef K,
cv313,
Danielle Patucci,
Parry Music,
Donny Hathaway,
Cecil Taylor,
Mark Hollis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Steve Hackett,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smoke,
The Happenings,
Suicide,
a-ha,
Talk Talk,
Blancmange,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Robert Wyatt,
La Düsseldorf,
Cal Tjader,
Quadrant,
Funkadelic,
Ponytail,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pet Shop Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faraquet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Finger,
Bronski Beat,
The Last Poets,
Maurizio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.