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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the dance 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
Magma,
Blancmange,
The Dirtbombs,
MC5,
Buzzcocks,
Organ,
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
Barclay James Harvest,
Massinfluence,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Echospace,
Hot Snakes,
ABC,
Cluster,
Rosa Yemen,
Los Fastidios,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
The Victims,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Green,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
Dawn Penn,
Negative Approach,
Bill Near,
Brick,
Ronnie Foster,
Das Ding,
Pussy Galore,
Pierre Henry,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Funkadelic,
La Düsseldorf,
The Electric Prunes,
The Moleskins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Connie Case,
F. McDonald,
CMW,
The Smiths,
Scratch Acid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Tears for Fears,
Deadbeat,
Radiohead,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doors,
Average White Band,
The Barracudas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.