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 Zimbabwe and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 John Holt to the grunge 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
The Cramps,
Q65,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nick Fraelich,
Colin Newman,
The Selecter,
Maleditus Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Magma,
The Fortunes,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxette,
Gerry Rafferty,
Warsaw,
Brothers Johnson,
John Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Sixth Finger,
The Slackers,
Theoretical Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
The Durutti Column,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Slits,
cv313,
Skriet,
Max Romeo,
The Blues Magoos,
Delta 5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed,
Heaven 17,
Silicon Teens,
The Litter,
Tom Boy,
Gang Starr,
Roger Hodgson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pere Ubu,
Alison Limerick,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Bourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Evens,
Black Pus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.