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 Mongolia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Saccharine Trust to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tim Buckley,
Procol Harum,
In Retrospect,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Flag,
Lou Christie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The J.B.'s,
Cameo,
Motorama,
Kerri Chandler,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Hardrive,
Jacob Miller,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
Parry Music,
Arcadia,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sparks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mojo Men,
La Düsseldorf,
Kayak,
Stiv Bators,
Aloha Tigers,
The Neon Judgement,
T.S.O.L.,
The Index,
Nico,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
Talk Talk,
Gang Gang Dance,
New York Dolls,
Matthew Bourne,
Soft Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Livin' Joy,
The Searchers,
The Toasters,
DJ Sneak,
Intrusion,
Make Up,
Freddie Wadling,
Maleditus Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Bush Tetras,
UT,
Section 25,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.