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 Brazil and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Blackbyrds to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Make Up,
Skaos,
Erykah Badu,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
Von Mondo,
Minny Pops,
10cc,
Aaron Thompson,
Shoche,
The Black Dice,
Pantytec,
L. Decosne,
DJ Style,
Barbara Tucker,
The Smoke,
Gang Starr,
Das Ding,
Peter & Gordon,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül II,
Au Pairs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Techniques,
Can,
Arcadia,
kango's stein massive,
Shuggie Otis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
Kayak,
Lalann,
The Electric Prunes,
The Evens,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Siglo XX,
Ossler,
Jacob Miller,
Minutemen,
The Monochrome Set,
Adolescents,
The Raincoats,
Sister Nancy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donald Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drexciya,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tomorrow,
The Fall,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Banda Bassotti,
La Düsseldorf,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ronan,
Infiniti,
Silicon Teens,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.