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 Mauritania and from Taipei.
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 Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Letta Mbulu to the jazz 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Cluster,
Qualms,
Chrome,
Angry Samoans,
New Order,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
Spandau Ballet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Marcia Griffiths,
Icehouse,
Supertramp,
Crime,
Bad Manners,
Nils Olav,
Mission of Burma,
The Red Krayola,
Urselle,
Dead Boys,
Harmonia,
Gong,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Blancmange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rekid,
The Trojans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter & Gordon,
Au Pairs,
Whodini,
The Evens,
Colin Newman,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
The Flesh Eaters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
R.M.O.,
The Seeds,
L. Decosne,
Boredoms,
Sex Pistols,
Silicon Teens,
Organ,
Lyres,
Skarface,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reagan Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.