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 Eritrea and from Beijing.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Inner City to the disco 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Axelrod,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
Lightning Bolt,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ken Boothe,
Television Personalities,
The Star Department,
The Dead C,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hashim,
Black Sheep,
The Residents,
Slick Rick,
Pussy Galore,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Saints,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Byrd,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
The Five Americans,
Nico,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sixth Finger,
Chris Corsano,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marvin Gaye,
Crime,
Danielle Patucci,
Subhumans,
Juan Atkins,
Wasted Youth,
E-Dancer,
A Certain Ratio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Todd Rundgren,
Electric Prunes,
Stiv Bators,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Animal Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kurtis Blow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
MC5,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
Sister Nancy,
Laurel Aitken,
James White and The Blacks,
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.