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 South Africa and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fugs to the rap 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Supertramp,
FM Einheit,
the Swans,
Vladislav Delay,
Nick Fraelich,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Amazonics,
Wings,
Goldenarms,
Clear Light,
John Holt,
Bush Tetras,
Brothers Johnson,
kango's stein massive,
Boogie Down Productions,
Janne Schatter,
Godley & Creme,
Dave Gahan,
Susan Cadogan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scrapy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
New Order,
Lalann,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Quantec,
Rosa Yemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
Barrington Levy,
The Evens,
Derrick May,
Black Pus,
Joy Division,
The Neon Judgement,
Little Man,
Dorothy Ashby,
LL Cool J,
Eden Ahbez,
Audionom,
The Flesh Eaters,
Drexciya,
ABBA,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
Average White Band,
The Index,
Make Up,
The Knickerbockers,
Au Pairs,
Harry Pussy,
Crooked Eye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Pop Group,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smoke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.