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 Sierra Leone 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Mission of Burma,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Groovy Waters,
Young Marble Giants,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
Idris Muhammad,
Swell Maps,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed,
Altered Images,
The New Christs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Suicide,
CMW,
Gong,
Marvin Gaye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter and Kerry,
The Last Poets,
MC5,
The Gories,
ABBA,
Motorama,
Warren Ellis,
Television,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Letta Mbulu,
Technova,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
H. Thieme,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
The Stooges,
Dual Sessions,
Skriet,
Maurizio,
Los Fastidios,
The Invisible,
Fad Gadget,
Gerry Rafferty,
PIL,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Birthday Party,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jandek,
Japan,
Wire,
Depeche Mode,
The Techniques,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.