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 Guyana and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mummies to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ice-T,
Graham Central Station,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kas Product,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Los Fastidios,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Slits,
Royal Trux,
Intrusion,
Thee Headcoats,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Mills,
Clear Light,
Glambeats Corp.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter & Gordon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fortunes,
Bill Near,
Lower 48,
Interpol,
Joe Finger,
The Leaves,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Rapeman,
Rekid,
Tres Demented,
Quantec,
The Gories,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Qualms,
Eddi Front,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Can,
Electric Prunes,
One Last Wish,
Television Personalities,
10cc,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joyce Sims,
Harmonia,
Fear,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.