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 Liechtenstein and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Anthony Braxton to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Youth Brigade,
the Bar-Kays,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q65,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shoche,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skarface,
The Smoke,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lower 48,
Unrelated Segments,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
Rekid,
Davy DMX,
Camberwell Now,
Excepter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
The Human League,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlback,
Man Parrish,
Black Bananas,
Charles Mingus,
Joy Division,
Barbara Tucker,
Bill Wells,
Don Cherry,
Lou Christie,
Los Fastidios,
Barry Ungar,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Dirtbombs,
New Age Steppers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Drexciya,
Zero Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Colin Newman,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amazonics,
Ten City,
the Swans,
The Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mr. Review,
DNA,
Peter & Gordon,
Hashim,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.