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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator 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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Warsaw,
The Durutti Column,
China Crisis,
This Heat,
Procol Harum,
The Doors,
Khruangbin,
UT,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
The Leaves,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deepchord,
Pole,
Technova,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
Severed Heads,
Loose Ends,
Amazonics,
The Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Vladislav Delay,
Massinfluence,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
Bobby Sherman,
Reagan Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Sarah Menescal,
PIL,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Subhumans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Spoonie Gee,
Bauhaus,
Rufus Thomas,
Moby Grape,
Dennis Brown,
Gang Green,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gladiators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Techniques,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mo-Dettes,
Scion,
The Martian,
The Happenings,
Pantytec,
Stereo Dub,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
F. McDonald,
The Alarm Clocks,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.