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 Finland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
KRS-One,
Main Source,
Outsiders,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Duran Duran,
Bush Tetras,
The United States of America,
Jacques Brel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Starr,
The Pop Group,
Nirvana,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Litter,
The Red Krayola,
John Holt,
The American Breed,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
Henry Cow,
Underground Resistance,
The Move,
Marmalade,
The Barracudas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mr. Review,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minny Pops,
EPMD,
Ultravox,
Swell Maps,
Altered Images,
Interpol,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerrie Biddell,
ABBA,
Lungfish,
The Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mad Mike,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dead Boys,
the Slits,
The Smiths,
Alison Limerick,
Q and Not U,
The Mojo Men,
B.T. Express,
Donald Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Peter & Gordon,
the Human League,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.