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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pulsallama to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
The Gap Band,
Smog,
The New Christs,
AZ,
Mark Hollis,
The Litter,
Funky Four + One,
Zapp,
Darondo,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
MDC,
Procol Harum,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
a-ha,
Deakin,
Susan Cadogan,
Gichy Dan,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Outsiders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Todd Terry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barbara Tucker,
Junior Murvin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Leonard Cohen,
10cc,
Kerri Chandler,
Joensuu 1685,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reagan Youth,
X-101,
Swans,
Tres Demented,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Buzzcocks,
Spandau Ballet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cowsills,
Dawn Penn,
Electric Prunes,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mission of Burma,
The Techniques,
T. Rex,
Sight & Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Black Bananas,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.