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 New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Moleskins to the disco 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Toni Rubio,
T. Rex,
Bill Near,
A Certain Ratio,
Spandau Ballet,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Selecter,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
Franke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The American Breed,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oblivians,
The Moleskins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mars,
Y Pants,
Mandrill,
Josef K,
New Age Steppers,
Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
Joe Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vladislav Delay,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brand Nubian,
The Dirtbombs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
The Music Machine,
China Crisis,
Little Man,
Jesper Dahlback,
CMW,
The Mummies,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mission of Burma,
The Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
Jawbox,
Black Moon,
Chrome,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echospace,
Bootsy Collins,
The Residents,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Kerri Chandler,
Reagan Youth,
Funkadelic,
Desert Stars,
Depeche Mode,
The Remains,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.