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 Mali and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 New Order 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Stereo Dub,
Iggy Pop,
Marine Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Rundgren,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gregory Isaacs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Amon Düül II,
Japan,
Albert Ayler,
The Cramps,
T. Rex,
Tommy Roe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Soulsonic Force,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeff Lynne,
Zapp,
Spandau Ballet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Panda Bear,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Sheep,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Blancmange,
Q and Not U,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Dolphy,
Morten Harket,
The Litter,
Lyres,
Fat Boys,
The Busters,
Gabor Szabo,
E-Dancer,
Sister Nancy,
The Names,
Joensuu 1685,
Scrapy,
the Sonics,
EPMD,
Arab on Radar,
Dennis Brown,
Brand Nubian,
The Martian,
The Happenings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Section 25,
48th St. Collective,
Sandy B,
Roxy Music,
Ice-T,
Eli Mardock,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.