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 Portugal and from New York.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
The Gladiators,
Terry Callier,
Brothers Johnson,
China Crisis,
B.T. Express,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Trumans Water,
The Last Poets,
Dawn Penn,
The Human League,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Techniques,
Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
The Mummies,
Nils Olav,
Archie Shepp,
Eurythmics,
Neil Young,
Derrick May,
Funkadelic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Beasts of Bourbon,
U.S. Maple,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gong,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Second Layer,
Fela Kuti,
Fatback Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Shuggie Otis,
The Buckinghams,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scan 7,
Inner City,
Camouflage,
Index,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Terry,
The Birthday Party,
Buzzcocks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dual Sessions,
Banda Bassotti,
the Soft Cell,
The Sound,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Starr,
AZ,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.