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 Belgium and from Philadelphia.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quando Quango,
The Durutti Column,
John Lydon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Groovy Waters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Isaac Hayes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
Colin Newman,
Oblivians,
Cecil Taylor,
Sällskapet,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mars,
Bobby Womack,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeff Mills,
Suicide,
Hashim,
Hasil Adkins,
Flash Fearless,
Boz Scaggs,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
Malaria!,
Ronan,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
Sam Rivers,
Eric Copeland,
Sonny Sharrock,
Franke,
Matthew Bourne,
PIL,
Moss Icon,
Marvin Gaye,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Rundgren,
The Neon Judgement,
Mark Hollis,
Grey Daturas,
Dead Boys,
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Brand Nubian,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deakin,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.