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 Venezuela and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Sneak,
John Lydon,
Average White Band,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Funky Four + One,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cramps,
Thompson Twins,
Sarah Menescal,
Matthew Halsall,
The Neon Judgement,
Ten City,
Danielle Patucci,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roger Hodgson,
Intrusion,
Moss Icon,
Black Pus,
Lyres,
Pussy Galore,
Moby Grape,
the Soft Cell,
Oneida,
Liliput,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ohio Players,
Brick,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siglo XX,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
Tom Boy,
The Moleskins,
H. Thieme,
Drexciya,
The Gories,
Joy Division,
The Monochrome Set,
Sandy B,
Chris & Cosey,
Schoolly D,
Audionom,
Warren Ellis,
David Axelrod,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deepchord,
AZ,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeff Mills,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.