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 Ghana and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Tears for Fears to the grunge 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
Pylon,
Technova,
Index,
Von Mondo,
The Dirtbombs,
Mark Hollis,
Y Pants,
B.T. Express,
Infiniti,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
OOIOO,
The Dead C,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Guru Guru,
Black Pus,
Jawbox,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
ABC,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cecil Taylor,
Alphaville,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Michelle Simonal,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
Reagan Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Motorama,
Crispy Ambulance,
PIL,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pulsallama,
Television Personalities,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Deadbeat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
Joy Division,
Kayak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Basic Channel,
Howard Jones,
Sonic Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Hill,
Franke,
Rakim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.