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 Russia and from Woodstock.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 The Kinks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters 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?
Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
the Bar-Kays,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
Lindisfarne,
KRS-One,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxy Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ken Boothe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tears for Fears,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eli Mardock,
The Smoke,
Byron Stingily,
Wasted Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quantec,
Colin Newman,
John Lydon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Camouflage,
Piero Umiliani,
the Normal,
Gang Starr,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young,
Arcadia,
Mantronix,
Grandmaster Flash,
Subhumans,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harmonia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Adolescents,
Barbara Tucker,
The Seeds,
Leonard Cohen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Christie,
Arab on Radar,
David Bowie,
Bootsy Collins,
Flipper,
The Kinks,
Crispy Ambulance,
UT,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
Schoolly D,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
Alison Limerick,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.