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 Albania and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jimmy McGriff to the techno 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
The Velvet Underground,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minutemen,
Nick Fraelich,
Vladislav Delay,
Average White Band,
Circle Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bluetip,
Franke,
Andrew Hill,
Inner City,
Oneida,
The Associates,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sällskapet,
Groovy Waters,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Holt,
Hasil Adkins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Al Stewart,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smiths,
Grey Daturas,
The Offenders,
Von Mondo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Neil Young,
Josef K,
B.T. Express,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joyce Sims,
John Cale,
Cluster,
Reuben Wilson,
Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
Supertramp,
DJ Style,
Q65,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minny Pops,
The Standells,
The Beau Brummels,
Colin Newman,
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Sex Pistols,
Skriet,
EPMD,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.