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 Burkina and from Portland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cheater Slicks to the disco 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
ABC,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Whodini,
Bootsy Collins,
Barry Ungar,
Q65,
the Slits,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
The Kinks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Matthew Bourne,
Deepchord,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
Sugar Minott,
Patti Smith,
The Smiths,
Nirvana,
Wasted Youth,
Al Stewart,
China Crisis,
Michelle Simonal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Animal Collective,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Visage,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Japan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pere Ubu,
The Durutti Column,
The Vogues,
The Black Dice,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
Kevin Saunderson,
Porter Ricks,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
The Selecter,
F. McDonald,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lou Christie,
Juan Atkins,
Subhumans,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxy Music,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.