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 Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Bluetip,
Peter and Kerry,
MDC,
Crooked Eye,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Residents,
Cameo,
Slick Rick,
Circle Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Aural Exciters,
Erasure,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
The Cure,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Minny Pops,
Joy Division,
Infiniti,
The Mummies,
The Cowsills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Neil Young,
Loose Ends,
Quantec,
Stiv Bators,
Marvin Gaye,
Gong,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The J.B.'s,
Peter & Gordon,
Organ,
Cheater Slicks,
Radio Birdman,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
Altered Images,
Liliput,
Black Moon,
Agent Orange,
John Cale,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Names,
Marmalade,
Patti Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Agitation Free,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
Tres Demented,
ABBA,
The Misunderstood,
Maleditus Sound,
Robert Görl,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.