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 Somalia and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Association to the rap 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
the Germs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Wings,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blues Magoos,
Babytalk,
Pole,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick Morgan,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Althea and Donna,
Faraquet,
The Raincoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Johnny Clarke,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Visage,
Bauhaus,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
UT,
Public Image Ltd.,
Easy Going,
Junior Murvin,
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
Leonard Cohen,
F. McDonald,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
The Litter,
Kayak,
CMW,
The Flesh Eaters,
Groovy Waters,
AZ,
Wally Richardson,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gong,
the Swans,
Pantytec,
Michelle Simonal,
Erasure,
The Mummies,
Technova,
Boogie Down Productions,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
Soft Cell,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.