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 Canada and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Hoover,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lindisfarne,
The Dirtbombs,
Anthony Braxton,
Janne Schatter,
Panda Bear,
Yazoo,
DJ Sneak,
Zero Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Isaac Hayes,
Glenn Branca,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Symarip,
Black Moon,
The Move,
Bobby Byrd,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Five Americans,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mummies,
David McCallum,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oneida,
The Happenings,
Icehouse,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
Ossler,
Organ,
Amon Düül II,
The Gap Band,
Tubeway Army,
Jesper Dahlback,
Freddie Wadling,
Goldenarms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Minutemen,
AZ,
Interpol,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slackers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pylon,
cv313,
Loose Ends,
Camouflage,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Dual Sessions,
The New Christs,
Chrome,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.