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 Haiti and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 DJ Sneak to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultravox,
the Germs,
Banda Bassotti,
Sixth Finger,
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agent Orange,
Harmonia,
The Pop Group,
Soft Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Howard Jones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
The Sound,
Prince Buster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalann,
Inner City,
The Fall,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Red Krayola,
The Searchers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nils Olav,
Marmalade,
DJ Style,
Moebius,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Niagra,
Altered Images,
Darondo,
Rites of Spring,
Dual Sessions,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Goldenarms,
Masters at Work,
Television,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grey Daturas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
UT,
Public Enemy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Birthday Party,
Hot Snakes,
Yusef Lateef,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Green,
New Order,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.