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 Iceland and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Fluxion to the dance 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Tim Buckley,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nils Olav,
Angry Samoans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Carl Craig,
Pussy Galore,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moody Blues,
Freddie Wadling,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy Collins,
Lower 48,
Kayak,
In Retrospect,
Man Parrish,
F. McDonald,
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
The Star Department,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Zeros,
Warsaw,
U.S. Maple,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ludus,
Barbara Tucker,
X-101,
Girls At Our Best!,
This Heat,
Main Source,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
The Grass Roots,
Arcadia,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
Jawbox,
Q and Not U,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ten City,
Desert Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brand Nubian,
Al Stewart,
The Motions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sound,
Ossler,
Faust,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.