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 Italy 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mighty Diamonds to the grime 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Ituana,
the Normal,
Robert Hood,
The Five Americans,
Eric Copeland,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sound,
June Days,
Ultra Naté,
Flipper,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
Outsiders,
Sällskapet,
Buzzcocks,
Jawbox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Severed Heads,
Judy Mowatt,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
Henry Cow,
New Order,
Fugazi,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Association,
Youth Brigade,
Panda Bear,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nils Olav,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nico,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
The Beau Brummels,
Danielle Patucci,
James White and The Blacks,
Scientists,
Clear Light,
Half Japanese,
Rapeman,
The Kinks,
Niagra,
Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Monolake,
Adolescents,
The Selecter,
La Düsseldorf,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.