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 Korea North and from Manila.
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 Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 EPMD to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Hardrive,
Ronan,
Interpol,
Eric B and Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nation of Ulysses,
Popol Vuh,
Malaria!,
Robert Hood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat,
Bush Tetras,
Electric Prunes,
John Foxx,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Wyatt,
Slick Rick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
Babytalk,
Funkadelic,
Dave Gahan,
Skaos,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
ABBA,
Index,
Stereo Dub,
Carl Craig,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Symarip,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra,
Minnie Riperton,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Soft Cell,
Alison Limerick,
The Leaves,
Derrick May,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
Erasure,
Marine Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Music Machine,
The Moleskins,
Reagan Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pierre Henry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sound,
Ohio Players,
The Busters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alton Ellis,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.