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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moss Icon to the rap 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unrelated Segments record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Susan Cadogan,
Sister Nancy,
Ornette Coleman,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Monks,
New York Dolls,
B.T. Express,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Leonard Cohen,
Al Stewart,
Alphaville,
Scrapy,
Graham Central Station,
The Knickerbockers,
Gichy Dan,
Vladislav Delay,
The Birthday Party,
Index,
Joy Division,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Christie,
Ituana,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sixth Finger,
Slick Rick,
Qualms,
Saccharine Trust,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Searchers,
Chrome,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra,
Sugar Minott,
Camouflage,
Visage,
Terry Callier,
Surgeon,
The Associates,
Jerry's Kids,
Lyres,
Cybotron,
Circle Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ten City,
John Foxx,
The Barracudas,
Crooked Eye,
Mission of Burma,
Motorama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marmalade,
Rosa Yemen,
The Five Americans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.