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 United Kingdom and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Q and Not U to the grime 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Panda Bear,
Suburban Knight,
Babytalk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delta 5,
The Busters,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
Ten City,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marmalade,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mo-Dettes,
Lucky Dragons,
Mad Mike,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
The Real Kids,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Severed Heads,
Intrusion,
Silicon Teens,
Max Romeo,
Mandrill,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nirvana,
The Blackbyrds,
Duran Duran,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül II,
Anthony Braxton,
Saccharine Trust,
Jawbox,
Surgeon,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
Ituana,
Cameo,
Yellowson,
Underground Resistance,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fortunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kenny Larkin,
Bootsy Collins,
ABBA,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ossler,
Shoche,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faraquet,
Technova,
Scion,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.