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 Malawi 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Boogie Down Productions to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sight & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Blossom Toes,
Thompson Twins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster,
Procol Harum,
The New Christs,
Connie Case,
Whodini,
Harry Pussy,
Aswad,
Shoche,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fugazi,
The Gun Club,
The Count Five,
Davy DMX,
Rakim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arthur Verocai,
The Raincoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fire Engines,
T. Rex,
PIL,
FM Einheit,
Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eddi Front,
The Busters,
Rosa Yemen,
Charles Mingus,
Au Pairs,
Rotary Connection,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bad Manners,
Black Flag,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bluetip,
Crash Course in Science,
The Associates,
Pharoah Sanders,
Livin' Joy,
Alphaville,
Peter and Kerry,
Nas,
Model 500,
The Mummies,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.