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 Antigua and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes 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 Tears for Fears to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Monolake,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young,
Rotary Connection,
The Durutti Column,
Suicide,
Fear,
Underground Resistance,
the Association,
Q65,
Matthew Halsall,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Leonard Cohen,
Liliput,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Joyce Sims,
The Seeds,
Faust,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Babytalk,
Interpol,
Livin' Joy,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
The Associates,
Hot Snakes,
Minnie Riperton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Stooges,
The Red Krayola,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Techniques,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
Minor Threat,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Stetsasonic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Skatalites,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bob Dylan,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.