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 Lesotho and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Amon Düül to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Skriet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Saccharine Trust,
Mo-Dettes,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
Ohio Players,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
David McCallum,
Whodini,
Gang Green,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Last Poets,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Agitation Free,
Moby Grape,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
June of 44,
Rites of Spring,
Aaron Thompson,
Amazonics,
Zero Boys,
Model 500,
Sight & Sound,
The Vogues,
Ice-T,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Lynne,
Marvin Gaye,
Excepter,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Sherman,
Connie Case,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
The Seeds,
Terry Callier,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Germs,
Quantec,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Iggy Pop,
Heaven 17,
Barbara Tucker,
The Real Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Bourne,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.