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 Afghanistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Desert Stars to the grunge 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Excepter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Last Poets,
Bill Near,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Essential Logic,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Stiv Bators,
Urselle,
Stereo Dub,
The Searchers,
Rekid,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tres Demented,
Angry Samoans,
X-102,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gang of Four,
Pere Ubu,
L. Decosne,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alphaville,
Monks,
Sun City Girls,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Crooked Eye,
Minnie Riperton,
Hashim,
DJ Style,
The Gap Band,
The Durutti Column,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
The Leaves,
Brass Construction,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The American Breed,
Crime,
Vainqueur,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cheater Slicks,
Easy Going,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.