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 South Africa and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare 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 The Sound to the grime 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
The Searchers,
Goldenarms,
The Young Rascals,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Trojans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Fela Kuti,
Man Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric B and Rakim,
Index,
Brick,
The Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Five Americans,
Hot Snakes,
The Index,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
UT,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fatback Band,
Derrick May,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Little Man,
Young Marble Giants,
Erykah Badu,
Intrusion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Pop Group,
This Heat,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Technova,
Kerri Chandler,
Dave Gahan,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soulsonic Force,
Arthur Verocai,
The Saints,
Gichy Dan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Qualms,
Underground Resistance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.