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 Guyana and from Lille.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pantytec to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Fluxion,
Radiohead,
Desert Stars,
Technova,
10cc,
The Black Dice,
The Golliwogs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gong,
Gichy Dan,
OOIOO,
Terrestrial Tones,
Susan Cadogan,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
Bad Manners,
EPMD,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
Kool Moe Dee,
a-ha,
The Invisible,
Black Pus,
The Names,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Machine,
Tomorrow,
Goldenarms,
The Fortunes,
Marshall Jefferson,
New Order,
Hardrive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hot Snakes,
World's Most,
Infiniti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pulsallama,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chrome,
Joe Smooth,
Suburban Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smiths,
Minny Pops,
Blake Baxter,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.