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 Congo and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Hoover to the grime 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
T.S.O.L.,
Wasted Youth,
Wally Richardson,
Grauzone,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
Shoche,
Arthur Verocai,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alton Ellis,
The Dead C,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Royal Trux,
DJ Style,
The Gap Band,
Second Layer,
Surgeon,
The Doors,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Connie Case,
The Fortunes,
Visage,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Morten Harket,
Eric Copeland,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Television,
Loose Ends,
Unwound,
Amon Düül,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Womack,
Basic Channel,
Metal Thangz,
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Depeche Mode,
Fad Gadget,
Fatback Band,
Yellowson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pylon,
Deakin,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Red Krayola,
Audionom,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pantytec,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.