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 Saudi Arabia and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the crunk 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Ultravox,
Buzzcocks,
The Star Department,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Black Pus,
Blossom Toes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jawbox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlback,
H. Thieme,
Brass Construction,
These Immortal Souls,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
Echospace,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
Skaos,
Gang Green,
Blancmange,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
John Holt,
Derrick May,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Index,
Nik Kershaw,
Monolake,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
In Retrospect,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
Harmonia,
Eurythmics,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Susan Cadogan,
EPMD,
Pagans,
The Human League,
Scrapy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Dennis Brown,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Tremeloes,
Cecil Taylor,
Wasted Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boredoms,
Adolescents,
Ludus,
The Doors,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.