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 Thailand and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Yazoo to the jazz 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Ultimate Spinach,
Iggy Pop,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Mars,
Quantec,
MC5,
Minutemen,
Freddie Wadling,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minor Threat,
Panda Bear,
The Dead C,
Index,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
The Durutti Column,
Franke,
The Associates,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Whodini,
The Sound,
UT,
John Coltrane,
Fatback Band,
New Order,
DJ Style,
Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camberwell Now,
Don Cherry,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Buckinghams,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gong,
Dave Gahan,
Roy Ayers,
Young Marble Giants,
John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Swell Maps,
Ten City,
The Leaves,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Susan Cadogan,
Scion,
Black Bananas,
Hashim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Rakim,
Dark Day,
Pantaleimon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Supertramp,
Malaria!,
The Busters,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.