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 Togo and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kenny Larkin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
The Modern Lovers,
Blake Baxter,
Gichy Dan,
Moss Icon,
Spoonie Gee,
Bush Tetras,
Popol Vuh,
F. McDonald,
The Divine Comedy,
The Vogues,
Aloha Tigers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neu!,
Section 25,
Darondo,
These Immortal Souls,
Hardrive,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cybotron,
Rod Modell,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
The Barracudas,
Second Layer,
E-Dancer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
The Names,
Jerry's Kids,
Schoolly D,
Toni Rubio,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pole,
Severed Heads,
Deakin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magazine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Don Cherry,
The Real Kids,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Von Mondo,
Theoretical Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
The Moody Blues,
Underground Resistance,
New Order,
Wally Richardson,
Blancmange,
Maleditus Sound,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.