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 Turkey 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Simply Red to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Barry Ungar,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Swans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Selecter,
Depeche Mode,
Echospace,
Section 25,
ABC,
Malaria!,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reagan Youth,
MDC,
Jawbox,
Graham Central Station,
Country Joe & The Fish,
KRS-One,
Man Eating Sloth,
Livin' Joy,
Scratch Acid,
Eden Ahbez,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funkadelic,
The Monochrome Set,
Davy DMX,
Magazine,
Alison Limerick,
Tres Demented,
The Trojans,
Massinfluence,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Von Mondo,
Ornette Coleman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
The Slackers,
Moebius,
These Immortal Souls,
Audionom,
Prince Buster,
Idris Muhammad,
Swell Maps,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Newcleus,
Kas Product,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
Sarah Menescal,
Zapp,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.