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 Nepal and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Cell to the jazz 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Warren Ellis,
AZ,
Eve St. Jones,
The Real Kids,
T.S.O.L.,
Surgeon,
Tomorrow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Judy Mowatt,
the Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Erasure,
Magma,
Brass Construction,
Soul II Soul,
Marcia Griffiths,
Model 500,
Bill Near,
Interpol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Bob Dylan,
Cameo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Henry Cow,
Slave,
Wolf Eyes,
Pole,
Aloha Tigers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Erykah Badu,
Fat Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
Carl Craig,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
Davy DMX,
Ronnie Foster,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
Janne Schatter,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Inner City,
Lower 48,
The Sound,
The Toasters,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Das Ding,
La Düsseldorf,
Quando Quango,
K-Klass,
F. McDonald,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.