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 Tajikistan and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dawn Penn to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
China Crisis,
Black Sheep,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terry Callier,
Lalann,
Lalo Schifrin,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed,
Danielle Patucci,
Pulsallama,
Howard Jones,
The Real Kids,
Reuben Wilson,
Junior Murvin,
Tommy Roe,
A Certain Ratio,
Cameo,
Derrick May,
Thee Headcoats,
Deakin,
Judy Mowatt,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Babytalk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Fluxion,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cramps,
The Walker Brothers,
Zero Boys,
Tomorrow,
T.S.O.L.,
Cecil Taylor,
the Germs,
Lower 48,
Young Marble Giants,
Banda Bassotti,
The Zeros,
Qualms,
K-Klass,
Procol Harum,
Gang of Four,
Harry Pussy,
the Swans,
Duran Duran,
Black Flag,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.