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 Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ 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 Clear Light to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
U.S. Maple,
John Lydon,
Harmonia,
The Trojans,
Robert Görl,
Janne Schatter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang of Four,
Bluetip,
Wasted Youth,
Monolake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fugazi,
Nico,
The Zeros,
A Certain Ratio,
Brand Nubian,
Scientists,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
Wings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Panda Bear,
Whodini,
Minnie Riperton,
Soft Cell,
The Move,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II,
Excepter,
Funky Four + One,
Sight & Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Index,
Josef K,
The Toasters,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Iggy Pop,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pole,
Altered Images,
Morten Harket,
Bauhaus,
Fela Kuti,
Ultra Naté,
MDC,
Scion,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ludus,
Sarah Menescal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Red Krayola,
Severed Heads,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crooked Eye,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.