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 Seychelles and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Steve Hackett to the dance 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Motions,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warsaw,
Pole,
Anthony Braxton,
Hashim,
Warren Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronnie Foster,
the Sonics,
Fatback Band,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yellowson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Reed,
the Slits,
Crash Course in Science,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Popol Vuh,
Yazoo,
Babytalk,
The Associates,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
Pagans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grauzone,
Aural Exciters,
Severed Heads,
Thompson Twins,
U.S. Maple,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
Negative Approach,
the Soft Cell,
Scion,
Archie Shepp,
Delon & Dalcan,
Youth Brigade,
Sex Pistols,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Almond,
Ken Boothe,
The Zeros,
Amon Düül II,
Slick Rick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Japan,
Ituana,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.