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 Sao Paulo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Circle Jerks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Techniques,
Wally Richardson,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Move,
John Cale,
The Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Selecter,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Max Romeo,
Reagan Youth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Dual Sessions,
Spandau Ballet,
Average White Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Youth Brigade,
Sex Pistols,
Quadrant,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fall,
Reuben Wilson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Roxy Music,
Ronan,
the Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Swans,
Depeche Mode,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ossler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Idris Muhammad,
Country Teasers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crime,
Stetsasonic,
Radiohead,
Rekid,
Underground Resistance,
Yaz,
The Tremeloes,
Tommy Roe,
Magazine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
Bootsy Collins,
Bill Near,
Dark Day,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Joe Smooth,
Piero Umiliani,
Fatback Band,
Y Pants,
The Fire Engines,
Quantec,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.