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 Georgia and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the rap 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Anakelly,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Make Up,
Marvin Gaye,
Cal Tjader,
Urselle,
Lungfish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tears for Fears,
Slick Rick,
The Standells,
R.M.O.,
The Associates,
The Offenders,
Dead Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ituana,
B.T. Express,
Rosa Yemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suburban Knight,
The Vogues,
Gang Gang Dance,
a-ha,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
The Busters,
Susan Cadogan,
Moby Grape,
Man Parrish,
The Toasters,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
David Axelrod,
Minor Threat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Coltrane,
Sandy B,
Bad Manners,
Scratch Acid,
Trumans Water,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Erasure,
Althea and Donna,
Jandek,
Shoche,
The Smiths,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Section 25,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.