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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Nick Fraelich to the disco 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
Man Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
The Index,
Johnny Clarke,
New Order,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
The Neon Judgement,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Velvet Underground,
Interpol,
Wolf Eyes,
Bad Manners,
Basic Channel,
Warsaw,
Cameo,
Josef K,
The Litter,
Eric Dolphy,
Smog,
Motorama,
UT,
Scion,
Kayak,
Lower 48,
Harpers Bizarre,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
World's Most,
Spandau Ballet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Easy Going,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Byrd,
Royal Trux,
Niagra,
Audionom,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Swans,
The Residents,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Judy Mowatt,
Clear Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Five Americans,
The Blues Magoos,
Althea and Donna,
the Germs,
The Techniques,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dead C,
The Zeros,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Young Rascals,
Gang of Four,
The Slits,
Joe Finger,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.