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 Korea South and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Trojans to the jazz 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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Oneida,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echospace,
R.M.O.,
The Neon Judgement,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Vogues,
The Mojo Men,
Blossom Toes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slits,
Agitation Free,
DJ Style,
Duran Duran,
Bad Manners,
Moebius,
Boz Scaggs,
Minutemen,
Alton Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ronnie Foster,
Angry Samoans,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
Wally Richardson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fall,
Lou Christie,
X-Ray Spex,
Nas,
Marine Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Deepchord,
Parry Music,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
Ultravox,
Soul Sonic Force,
48th St. Collective,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Piero Umiliani,
Derrick May,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick Morgan,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
L. Decosne,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.