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 Mozambique and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Infiniti to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
DJ Style,
Sexual Harrassment,
Q65,
Drexciya,
The Beau Brummels,
Sixth Finger,
Monks,
The Fuzztones,
Marc Almond,
Tres Demented,
Depeche Mode,
Curtis Mayfield,
Schoolly D,
The Toasters,
Idris Muhammad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Finger,
Liliput,
The Litter,
Harry Pussy,
Minnie Riperton,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Marine Girls,
Slick Rick,
Roxy Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Man Eating Sloth,
Neil Young,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mars,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Reed,
Joyce Sims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Graham Central Station,
Stereo Dub,
Can,
The Fall,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Dolphy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moby Grape,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dawn Penn,
F. McDonald,
Kevin Saunderson,
Laurel Aitken,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ken Boothe,
Anakelly,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.