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 Mongolia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron 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 In Retrospect to the grime 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Monks,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
E-Dancer,
Bronski Beat,
The Trojans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Steve Hackett,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tubeway Army,
Scientists,
Josef K,
Colin Newman,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Organ,
Ultra Naté,
Ituana,
Y Pants,
The Red Krayola,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jeff Lynne,
Liliput,
Kenny Larkin,
The Vogues,
Wolf Eyes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Lydon,
Piero Umiliani,
the Germs,
Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Toasters,
LL Cool J,
Slave,
Agitation Free,
H. Thieme,
Erykah Badu,
ABBA,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Moss Icon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
Skaos,
Depeche Mode,
Warren Ellis,
Anakelly,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
Warsaw,
Mark Hollis,
Television Personalities,
Bush Tetras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.