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 Grenada and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Motions to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Pop Group,
Schoolly D,
The Techniques,
Joey Negro,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
Zero Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Deadbeat,
Cheater Slicks,
The Stooges,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ponytail,
Amazonics,
The Fugs,
The Associates,
Adolescents,
Peter & Gordon,
Gabor Szabo,
Reagan Youth,
June of 44,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gladiators,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sonics,
Ken Boothe,
Yazoo,
Minor Threat,
X-101,
The Barracudas,
Arab on Radar,
The Kinks,
Mantronix,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones,
Johnny Clarke,
Neu!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kayak,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
Stereo Dub,
Pharoah Sanders,
Japan,
Amon Düül II,
Isaac Hayes,
Joensuu 1685,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
Gichy Dan,
Delta 5,
Swans,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roxette,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.