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 Ghana and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Tropical Tobacco to the techno 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Black Sheep,
OOIOO,
the Swans,
David McCallum,
Chris & Cosey,
Mr. Review,
Livin' Joy,
The Star Department,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Janne Schatter,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
Nils Olav,
Funkadelic,
Moss Icon,
Supertramp,
The Fortunes,
Tears for Fears,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monks,
Amazonics,
Connie Case,
Rotary Connection,
Icehouse,
Tomorrow,
Whodini,
Section 25,
The Alarm Clocks,
Loose Ends,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Robert Görl,
Vladislav Delay,
Al Stewart,
Nirvana,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Pus,
The Golliwogs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Dawn Penn,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
Youth Brigade,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Christie,
Grey Daturas,
the Human League,
Visage,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Q and Not U,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.