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 Uzbekistan and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Siglo XX,
Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
John Coltrane,
EPMD,
Eve St. Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Pylon,
Grey Daturas,
Oneida,
Colin Newman,
The Smoke,
Wolf Eyes,
Nik Kershaw,
Aloha Tigers,
Fatback Band,
Swell Maps,
The Blackbyrds,
Jandek,
Eddi Front,
Youth Brigade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Negative Approach,
The Music Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Warren Ellis,
Adolescents,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Funkadelic,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Human League,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
The United States of America,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Techniques,
Supertramp,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
Skarface,
Hot Snakes,
The American Breed,
Sandy B,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Terry,
Chris Corsano,
Clear Light,
Archie Shepp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Neil Young,
Peter and Kerry,
Lou Christie,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.