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 Switzerland and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pussy Galore to the grime 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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chrome,
Anthony Braxton,
Don Cherry,
Lindisfarne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Black Dice,
Faraquet,
Cybotron,
Eurythmics,
The Electric Prunes,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
Niagra,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
Piero Umiliani,
Gabor Szabo,
Fad Gadget,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Quadrant,
Cheater Slicks,
Vainqueur,
Tropical Tobacco,
Y Pants,
Excepter,
This Heat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gang Starr,
Clear Light,
Sonic Youth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
The New Christs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
Yazoo,
Deakin,
Black Moon,
Magma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Procol Harum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Make Up,
Quando Quango,
Sarah Menescal,
Blancmange,
Sister Nancy,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
DNA,
Agitation Free,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.