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 Seychelles and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Kas Product to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Procol Harum,
The Shadows of Knight,
Groovy Waters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bad Manners,
UT,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Stereo Dub,
The Dirtbombs,
Scratch Acid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
MDC,
FM Einheit,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pole,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Banda Bassotti,
Soulsonic Force,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Modern Lovers,
Desert Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eddi Front,
Ronnie Foster,
Wings,
Yazoo,
Bauhaus,
Jawbox,
Pulsallama,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
The Cowsills,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
New Order,
The Evens,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Beau Brummels,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Five Americans,
Swell Maps,
Grauzone,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Japan,
Second Layer,
Vladislav Delay,
Patti Smith,
Rotary Connection,
Niagra,
Lalann,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.