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 Andorra and from Winnipeg.
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 Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 James White and The Blacks 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Underground Resistance,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Second Layer,
Bluetip,
Motorama,
Deepchord,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case,
Japan,
The Pretty Things,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
Audionom,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Almond,
Crooked Eye,
The Smiths,
Freddie Wadling,
Pantaleimon,
a-ha,
The Monochrome Set,
Thee Headcoats,
Negative Approach,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dorothy Ashby,
China Crisis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Albert Ayler,
Nas,
Excepter,
Derrick May,
Dave Gahan,
Smog,
Ice-T,
Harmonia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fat Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Slick Rick,
Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
Bronski Beat,
Absolute Body Control,
Nik Kershaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Fania All-Stars,
Warren Ellis,
Delta 5,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.