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 Morocco and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 rhodes 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 Johnny Clarke to the rap 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Blues Magoos,
John Foxx,
Wally Richardson,
F. McDonald,
Hardrive,
Pole,
Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Soft Cell,
Isaac Hayes,
Lakeside,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deakin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Slave,
Pussy Galore,
The J.B.'s,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Little Man,
Peter and Kerry,
Guru Guru,
Letta Mbulu,
Hashim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wasted Youth,
DNA,
Outsiders,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
EPMD,
Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
Flipper,
David Bowie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Massinfluence,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monochrome Set,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skarface,
Traffic Nightmare,
Henry Cow,
Pagans,
Mantronix,
Altered Images,
Joy Division,
Althea and Donna,
Sex Pistols,
Lyres,
The Smoke,
The Black Dice,
Aloha Tigers,
LL Cool J,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Lydon,
Visage,
Angry Samoans,
PIL,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.