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 Suriname and from Philadelphia.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Spandau Ballet,
Brick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
The Tremeloes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
a-ha,
The Names,
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
Simply Red,
Lyres,
The Durutti Column,
Yellowson,
Nik Kershaw,
Main Source,
Wolf Eyes,
Vladislav Delay,
Piero Umiliani,
Gabor Szabo,
The Cure,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monks,
Organ,
Pantaleimon,
Scrapy,
Bluetip,
Metal Thangz,
The Blues Magoos,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
Essential Logic,
New York Dolls,
Country Teasers,
OOIOO,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Germs,
The Divine Comedy,
Moss Icon,
Yaz,
LL Cool J,
Carl Craig,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
Technova,
Grey Daturas,
The Pretty Things,
Grauzone,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
The Kinks,
The Smiths,
Television,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.