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 Vietnam and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cluster,
Black Sheep,
Marine Girls,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier,
The Moleskins,
Graham Central Station,
These Immortal Souls,
Whodini,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Au Pairs,
The Beau Brummels,
The Remains,
Sällskapet,
Magma,
D'Angelo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rakim,
Visage,
Soul Sonic Force,
MC5,
Chris & Cosey,
The Mummies,
Harry Pussy,
Steve Hackett,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
Jeff Mills,
Alison Limerick,
Suicide,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
AZ,
Camouflage,
Scrapy,
Niagra,
Black Pus,
Nirvana,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Subhumans,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Music Machine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Malaria!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anthony Braxton,
Y Pants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Ponytail,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Terry,
H. Thieme,
The Velvet Underground,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.