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 Ecuador and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 These Immortal Souls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Arab on Radar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ken Boothe,
The Wake,
Scientists,
The United States of America,
Y Pants,
Echospace,
The Detroit Cobras,
Judy Mowatt,
Dawn Penn,
The Mojo Men,
Blake Baxter,
The Fortunes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Offenders,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Minnie Riperton,
The Star Department,
Public Enemy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang of Four,
Magma,
The Blackbyrds,
Chris Corsano,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dave Clark Five,
Charles Mingus,
Scratch Acid,
The Monks,
Pylon,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
Todd Terry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slackers,
Slick Rick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Altered Images,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barrington Levy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.