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 Switzerland and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Aural Exciters 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Lucky Dragons,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Audionom,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
Girls At Our Best!,
Monolake,
Surgeon,
Kayak,
Funky Four + One,
The Knickerbockers,
The American Breed,
Maleditus Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Organ,
Interpol,
Mars,
Alphaville,
Loose Ends,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Whodini,
Scott Walker,
The Angels of Light,
Rakim,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare,
Kenny Larkin,
Alton Ellis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alison Limerick,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Selecter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
The Dave Clark Five,
Y Pants,
The Dirtbombs,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stiv Bators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.