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 Estonia and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Residents to the crunk 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stereo Dub,
Jacques Brel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Quadrant,
Rekid,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crime,
Josef K,
Livin' Joy,
Erasure,
Severed Heads,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Spandau Ballet,
Wasted Youth,
Nico,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Q and Not U,
Spoonie Gee,
The Beau Brummels,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sugar Minott,
Arthur Verocai,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joyce Sims,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies,
Moby Grape,
Nation of Ulysses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shoche,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alison Limerick,
Andrew Hill,
Eve St. Jones,
This Heat,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Graham Central Station,
Steve Hackett,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Das Ding,
Newcleus,
Fatback Band,
Niagra,
Archie Shepp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Agitation Free,
ABC,
Jacob Miller,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.