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 Barbados and from Lagos.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Scott Walker to the electroclash 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Misunderstood,
Charles Mingus,
Prince Buster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Standells,
10cc,
Faust,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
Theoretical Girls,
T. Rex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Whodini,
Rhythm & Sound,
Oblivians,
The Mojo Men,
Babytalk,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suicide,
Agent Orange,
X-101,
Hashim,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sarah Menescal,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
Magazine,
June Days,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
EPMD,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ten City,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pantytec,
Maleditus Sound,
the Association,
The Trojans,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Robert Hood,
ABBA,
Stereo Dub,
Gang of Four,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.