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 Fiji and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
D'Angelo,
Khruangbin,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Chrome,
Joyce Sims,
Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nas,
Rekid,
Q65,
H. Thieme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Essential Logic,
Porter Ricks,
Ossler,
Soulsonic Force,
Maurizio,
Average White Band,
Swell Maps,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kurtis Blow,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Whodini,
Fugazi,
Eli Mardock,
Supertramp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minutemen,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dawn Penn,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Smog,
48th St. Collective,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Animal Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Model 500,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
World's Most,
One Last Wish,
Albert Ayler,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Arab on Radar,
Cybotron,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.