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 Andorra and from Stockholm.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lindisfarne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Black Dice,
The Buckinghams,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mantronix,
Soulsonic Force,
Icehouse,
A Certain Ratio,
a-ha,
Susan Cadogan,
U.S. Maple,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
The Monks,
Metal Thangz,
The Pretty Things,
Theoretical Girls,
The Zeros,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deadbeat,
The Toasters,
Fear,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ten City,
Sandy B,
Buzzcocks,
DJ Sneak,
The Gap Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rites of Spring,
Drexciya,
The Victims,
Infiniti,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
the Swans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Techniques,
the Sonics,
The Busters,
The Litter,
Ronan,
Make Up,
Absolute Body Control,
Excepter,
The Barracudas,
Section 25,
The Mummies,
Albert Ayler,
Outsiders,
Eddi Front,
Letta Mbulu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Quantec,
Niagra,
Swell Maps,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fugazi,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.