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 Moldova and from Stockholm.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Steve Hackett,
The Cramps,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Leaves,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sugar Minott,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
Neil Young,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
Yusef Lateef,
The Velvet Underground,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sister Nancy,
New York Dolls,
Minny Pops,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
DJ Sneak,
The Doors,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rosa Yemen,
Leonard Cohen,
Jimmy McGriff,
Animal Collective,
Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Banda Bassotti,
Bob Dylan,
Moebius,
A Certain Ratio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Searchers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Audionom,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ituana,
Hasil Adkins,
Khruangbin,
Aloha Tigers,
Pantytec,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker,
Amon Düül,
Bootsy Collins,
Boz Scaggs,
FM Einheit,
Slick Rick,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.