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 Honduras and from Cairo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron 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 Y Pants to the crunk 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Alphaville,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Durutti Column,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Visage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mr. Review,
Accadde A,
Model 500,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lakeside,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Sister Nancy,
K-Klass,
Yazoo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Human League,
The Count Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Charles Mingus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Saccharine Trust,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fluxion,
The Five Americans,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dirtbombs,
Zero Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Henry Cow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
Curtis Mayfield,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
The Searchers,
Robert Görl,
Kevin Saunderson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lee Hazlewood,
David Bowie,
Average White Band,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
The United States of America,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The J.B.'s,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Clear Light,
Infiniti,
MC5,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.