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 El Salvador and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe 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 Lalann to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
The United States of America,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harmonia,
Tubeway Army,
Radiohead,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nico,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
Vladislav Delay,
Vainqueur,
The Happenings,
Schoolly D,
Y Pants,
H. Thieme,
Scientists,
Sound Behaviour,
Index,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ice-T,
Deakin,
Maurizio,
Marc Almond,
Man Eating Sloth,
Intrusion,
the Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mojo Men,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sixth Finger,
The Raincoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moebius,
Albert Ayler,
The Searchers,
Joyce Sims,
The Cramps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monks,
Underground Resistance,
Wasted Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Crooked Eye,
Ossler,
Mantronix,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric Dolphy,
MDC,
The Dirtbombs,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.