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 Lesotho and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 UT to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Hood,
Steve Hackett,
Country Teasers,
A Certain Ratio,
Minnie Riperton,
Joy Division,
Japan,
ABBA,
Eli Mardock,
The Dead C,
H. Thieme,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
Mission of Burma,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kas Product,
Neu!,
Spandau Ballet,
Nico,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scott Walker,
Derrick Morgan,
Theoretical Girls,
Average White Band,
The Names,
John Holt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
Davy DMX,
Jawbox,
Mark Hollis,
The Evens,
Blancmange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Deadbeat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Popol Vuh,
Supertramp,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Cramps,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
Wally Richardson,
The Neon Judgement,
The Residents,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.