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 Dominican Republic and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 the Soft Cell to the grime 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Can,
Fugazi,
Lower 48,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dual Sessions,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skriet,
The Cowsills,
Ohio Players,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young,
The Fall,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Duran Duran,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crooked Eye,
Agitation Free,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
Negative Approach,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ken Boothe,
The Count Five,
The Music Machine,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cure,
Suicide,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Warren Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül,
Eli Mardock,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Black Dice,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Letta Mbulu,
Patti Smith,
Moss Icon,
Joy Division,
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
Radiohead,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Electric Prunes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Terry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.