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 Sweden and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 Pharoah Sanders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Bluetip,
John Holt,
Michelle Simonal,
Monolake,
Skarface,
Monks,
The Standells,
Masters at Work,
The Mojo Men,
Fear,
Fluxion,
Hot Snakes,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Kenny Larkin,
John Lydon,
Spandau Ballet,
Yellowson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arab on Radar,
Niagra,
Nils Olav,
Lyres,
Joe Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pussy Galore,
New Age Steppers,
The Velvet Underground,
Faraquet,
The Offenders,
Gang of Four,
Eric B and Rakim,
Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
Ornette Coleman,
Aaron Thompson,
Cal Tjader,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Erasure,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
kango's stein massive,
The Cramps,
Scion,
CMW,
The Flesh Eaters,
Depeche Mode,
Black Moon,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Birthday Party,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Half Japanese,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-102,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.