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 Afghanistan 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet 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 Radiohead to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
The Fall,
Make Up,
Dave Gahan,
Lungfish,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Procol Harum,
Terrestrial Tones,
Traffic Nightmare,
Parry Music,
Rites of Spring,
Gabor Szabo,
The Standells,
Jeff Mills,
Graham Central Station,
Alice Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Inner City,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
Ituana,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Moleskins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Tremeloes,
Gang of Four,
Cymande,
Terry Callier,
Ludus,
Pussy Galore,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camberwell Now,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unrelated Segments,
The Searchers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Adolescents,
The Seeds,
Lucky Dragons,
Bill Near,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Machine,
Archie Shepp,
The Five Americans,
Quando Quango,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kurtis Blow,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.