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 Vietnam and from Manchester.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeru the Damaja to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
The Seeds,
Warsaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Malaria!,
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
X-101,
Main Source,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tubeway Army,
Andrew Hill,
B.T. Express,
Audionom,
The Gories,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Kerri Chandler,
Patti Smith,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
Goldenarms,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
KRS-One,
The Toasters,
Thompson Twins,
Eden Ahbez,
The Pretty Things,
Theoretical Girls,
T. Rex,
The Evens,
Boz Scaggs,
Bootsy Collins,
Dark Day,
Eve St. Jones,
Prince Buster,
Aswad,
The Mummies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fugs,
H. Thieme,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
Nirvana,
Angry Samoans,
Stetsasonic,
Alton Ellis,
Nico,
Rufus Thomas,
Cal Tjader,
Danielle Patucci,
Graham Central Station,
The New Christs,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.