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 Tonga and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
James White and The Blacks,
Aswad,
Franke,
Zapp,
The Slackers,
Little Man,
Frankie Knuckles,
Michelle Simonal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tres Demented,
Sound Behaviour,
the Sonics,
The Seeds,
Visage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Motorama,
Japan,
Boredoms,
Prince Buster,
Arcadia,
Dark Day,
Jandek,
Iggy Pop,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs,
Tom Boy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gladiators,
Echospace,
Leonard Cohen,
Grandmaster Flash,
Model 500,
Tommy Roe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stetsasonic,
Skriet,
The Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
Stiv Bators,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Crime,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gories,
Neu!,
David Axelrod,
10cc,
The Associates,
New Order,
Nils Olav,
Gang of Four,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ituana,
Fatback Band,
Clear Light,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.