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 Zambia and from Lyon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Black Moon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Glenn Branca,
Lee Hazlewood,
This Heat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
Gang Starr,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joensuu 1685,
Freddie Wadling,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sex Pistols,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Icehouse,
X-Ray Spex,
Outsiders,
Kerri Chandler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
Goldenarms,
The American Breed,
Ludus,
Mad Mike,
Scion,
the Slits,
Matthew Halsall,
Silicon Teens,
Pharoah Sanders,
U.S. Maple,
The Victims,
Marc Almond,
The Residents,
The Tremeloes,
The Star Department,
Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
DJ Sneak,
Essential Logic,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Evens,
Y Pants,
Sam Rivers,
Wings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marine Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Red Krayola,
Make Up,
Soft Cell,
Delon & Dalcan,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.