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 Sierra Leone and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Johnny Osbourne to the crunk 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Fugazi,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skriet,
Mo-Dettes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Chris & Cosey,
Crispian St. Peters,
UT,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
Bill Wells,
Panda Bear,
Brick,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Todd Rundgren,
Bad Manners,
Tropical Tobacco,
June of 44,
Eli Mardock,
Ornette Coleman,
Ronan,
The Sonics,
Organ,
Index,
Subhumans,
Flash Fearless,
Khruangbin,
The Skatalites,
Deadbeat,
Ludus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pussy Galore,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mars,
In Retrospect,
Magma,
Eddi Front,
Steve Hackett,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobby Sherman,
LL Cool J,
Wings,
Mandrill,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quantec,
Scientists,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joy Division,
Tomorrow,
Inner City,
Parry Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABC,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.