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 Grenada and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Vladislav Delay to the disco 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mars,
This Heat,
Chris & Cosey,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Aloha Tigers,
Deepchord,
Motorama,
Wolf Eyes,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
The Monks,
Mission of Burma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Technova,
The Trojans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mandrill,
Roxette,
The Fall,
The Evens,
Nirvana,
The Pop Group,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
The New Christs,
Das Ding,
Fat Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Altered Images,
Cluster,
Jeff Lynne,
Glenn Branca,
Roxy Music,
Max Romeo,
Ponytail,
Erykah Badu,
Moss Icon,
Oblivians,
The Remains,
X-Ray Spex,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Wake,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
Intrusion,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Television Personalities,
Prince Buster,
Arab on Radar,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.