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 Bhutan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 The Associates to the crunk 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Roger Hodgson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Martian,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Josef K,
Anthony Braxton,
Susan Cadogan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
This Heat,
the Normal,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oneida,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott Heron,
Half Japanese,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sun City Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Audionom,
48th St. Collective,
Ronan,
Quando Quango,
F. McDonald,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
The Walker Brothers,
Rufus Thomas,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
Marvin Gaye,
Hasil Adkins,
Sex Pistols,
Metal Thangz,
The Alarm Clocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Byrd,
Skriet,
PIL,
Barrington Levy,
Monks,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Warren Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aural Exciters,
ABC,
Adolescents,
Jerry's Kids,
The Remains,
JFA,
OOIOO,
Charles Mingus,
James White and The Blacks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.