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 Italy and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Human League to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters,
JFA,
Can,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
Swans,
Todd Terry,
Barbara Tucker,
The Associates,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Neu!,
EPMD,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dark Day,
Fugazi,
The Divine Comedy,
Roy Ayers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bronski Beat,
Ronnie Foster,
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
Juan Atkins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Slick Rick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Japan,
Outsiders,
The Remains,
Lyres,
The Dead C,
Gang Starr,
The Knickerbockers,
Blancmange,
The Human League,
MDC,
ABBA,
The Music Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rapeman,
Pussy Galore,
Inner City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
10cc,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Loose Ends,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
Althea and Donna,
Khruangbin,
Faust,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.