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 Maldives and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Eric Copeland to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Theoretical Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Litter,
Symarip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Deepchord,
Bang On A Can,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
Howard Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
Angry Samoans,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
UT,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scrapy,
The Tremeloes,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cramps,
Marmalade,
David McCallum,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wings,
The Dirtbombs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pantytec,
Banda Bassotti,
Swans,
Whodini,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thee Headcoats,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Christie,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Excepter,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed,
Amazonics,
In Retrospect,
The Grass Roots,
Curtis Mayfield,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soft Machine,
Gong,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fortunes,
Trumans Water,
Alphaville,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.