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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Johnny Osbourne to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Cybotron,
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Star Department,
Danielle Patucci,
Mark Hollis,
Fugazi,
The Dirtbombs,
Zapp,
Angry Samoans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Main Source,
Sandy B,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young,
The Pretty Things,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Skaos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The New Christs,
Sex Pistols,
Urselle,
Newcleus,
Ituana,
Fluxion,
Tears for Fears,
Swell Maps,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
Neu!,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
Nico,
DJ Style,
Pulsallama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Carl Craig,
Robert Wyatt,
Robert Hood,
Albert Ayler,
Howard Jones,
Alphaville,
Alice Coltrane,
X-101,
Sonic Youth,
Pere Ubu,
New Order,
Roxy Music,
Scientists,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pussy Galore,
Rekid,
Henry Cow,
Aural Exciters,
Ronnie Foster,
Roger Hodgson,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.