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 Chile 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Names to the dance 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
John Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
UT,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Starr,
Roxette,
Bob Dylan,
Henry Cow,
Public Enemy,
The Angels of Light,
The Sisters of Mercy,
X-101,
JFA,
Bronski Beat,
Donald Byrd,
Infiniti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sound Behaviour,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Invisible,
Newcleus,
Reagan Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wire,
David Bowie,
Skarface,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pylon,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
OOIOO,
New Age Steppers,
the Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
FM Einheit,
The Dead C,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Pus,
Cymande,
Unrelated Segments,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mojo Men,
Franke,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Duran Duran,
Altered Images,
The Vogues,
T. Rex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Style,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
Massinfluence,
Black Sheep,
Sixth Finger,
Barry Ungar,
Faraquet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pantaleimon,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.