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 Iran and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 Ituana to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Public Enemy,
48th St. Collective,
Fear,
The Moleskins,
Skarface,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Faust,
UT,
Masters at Work,
Marmalade,
Jandek,
Sparks,
X-102,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
Man Parrish,
Q65,
Talk Talk,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang Green,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Malaria!,
The Busters,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
The Kinks,
Ponytail,
Inner City,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
The Evens,
Brothers Johnson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gun Club,
Pagans,
Mission of Burma,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
X-101,
Chris Corsano,
LL Cool J,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cameo,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Carl Craig,
Colin Newman,
Crime,
The Victims,
The Stooges,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.