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 Czech Republic and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 E-Dancer to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
T.S.O.L.,
Mo-Dettes,
Pole,
Television,
Minnie Riperton,
Tubeway Army,
Kaleidoscope,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mummies,
Country Teasers,
Albert Ayler,
Chris Corsano,
Magazine,
Niagra,
Angry Samoans,
Depeche Mode,
Aswad,
a-ha,
Joe Finger,
The Wake,
Blake Baxter,
Lyres,
Radiohead,
The Slits,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
Todd Terry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacob Miller,
Amon Düül,
Ponytail,
Al Stewart,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Golliwogs,
The Index,
The Seeds,
The United States of America,
The Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
Soul II Soul,
Funkadelic,
The Divine Comedy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Goldenarms,
Scion,
Mark Hollis,
UT,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Pus,
the Swans,
Barrington Levy,
Rapeman,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick May,
DNA,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.