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 Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Theoretical Girls to the electroclash 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Aaron Thompson,
Japan,
Rosa Yemen,
Nico,
Sugar Minott,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
PIL,
Peter & Gordon,
Average White Band,
Rod Modell,
Make Up,
Sonic Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yazoo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Fluxion,
Lalann,
Excepter,
The Pretty Things,
Shoche,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pylon,
The Smiths,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joey Negro,
Mo-Dettes,
The Red Krayola,
X-101,
Wally Richardson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Toasters,
CMW,
Rhythm & Sound,
Echospace,
Bang On A Can,
Tubeway Army,
Arab on Radar,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
Half Japanese,
Groovy Waters,
Cal Tjader,
Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Copeland,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wings,
Joensuu 1685,
Lindisfarne,
Circle Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
La Düsseldorf,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amazonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
H. Thieme,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.