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 Turkmenistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Soft Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Siglo XX,
Sun Ra,
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
The New Christs,
Piero Umiliani,
Wings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Halsall,
Lyres,
Pagans,
Kurtis Blow,
The Red Krayola,
Sister Nancy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crooked Eye,
Clear Light,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Erykah Badu,
L. Decosne,
Cecil Taylor,
Babytalk,
The Smiths,
Khruangbin,
Urselle,
AZ,
Brick,
Eric Dolphy,
kango's stein massive,
Sound Behaviour,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gladiators,
Ken Boothe,
The Music Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Pantytec,
Faust,
Donald Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Albert Ayler,
The Standells,
The Monochrome Set,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pole,
Donny Hathaway,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Popol Vuh,
Grauzone,
Fat Boys,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.