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 Sierra Leone and from London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Kenny Larkin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Visage,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül,
The Gap Band,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
CMW,
Gang Green,
Max Romeo,
Mars,
Roger Hodgson,
Yaz,
Ponytail,
The Angels of Light,
Groovy Waters,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
ABBA,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Busters,
The Toasters,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cheater Slicks,
Arcadia,
PIL,
Pylon,
The Offenders,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hashim,
Lalann,
Skriet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Nas,
Reagan Youth,
KRS-One,
The Smoke,
Siglo XX,
The Walker Brothers,
The Selecter,
Kurtis Blow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Moebius,
cv313,
Jacques Brel,
The Blues Magoos,
Jandek,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bush Tetras,
a-ha,
Don Cherry,
DJ Style,
Fad Gadget,
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
kango's stein massive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Von Mondo,
Quadrant,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.