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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Neil Young,
Brass Construction,
The Barracudas,
Chris & Cosey,
Basic Channel,
ABC,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skaos,
Thee Headcoats,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marvin Gaye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nas,
John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Stooges,
Warsaw,
The Invisible,
Tears for Fears,
The Five Americans,
New York Dolls,
Motorama,
Colin Newman,
Whodini,
DJ Sneak,
Moby Grape,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cecil Taylor,
The Dead C,
Darondo,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Holt,
Barbara Tucker,
8 Eyed Spy,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brand Nubian,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Eurythmics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radio Birdman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grey Daturas,
Erykah Badu,
Rotary Connection,
Aloha Tigers,
ABBA,
The Motions,
Skriet,
Talk Talk,
EPMD,
Matthew Halsall,
The Victims,
X-Ray Spex,
Underground Resistance,
Black Flag,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.