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 Chad and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Almond to the techno 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Durutti Column,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Index,
Black Sheep,
Ponytail,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Bourne,
Rotary Connection,
Wire,
Lightning Bolt,
Brick,
Lebanon Hanover,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Five Americans,
Newcleus,
Harmonia,
John Holt,
Pantaleimon,
Jawbox,
Massinfluence,
June of 44,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
Tomorrow,
Warren Ellis,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Dorothy Ashby,
Junior Murvin,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Glenn Branca,
Derrick Morgan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Freddie Wadling,
Spandau Ballet,
Suicide,
Aaron Thompson,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Trojans,
X-Ray Spex,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Davy DMX,
The Doors,
Niagra,
The Red Krayola,
Echospace,
Jesper Dahlback,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Donny Hathaway,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.