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 Micronesia and from London.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ten City to the rock 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb 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 snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Rites of Spring,
Soft Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultra Naté,
Clear Light,
Groovy Waters,
AZ,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nico,
Don Cherry,
Zapp,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Siglo XX,
Easy Going,
T.S.O.L.,
Connie Case,
Magma,
The Moody Blues,
The Raincoats,
Hardrive,
Black Sheep,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
OOIOO,
DJ Style,
Pantytec,
Tubeway Army,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reagan Youth,
Harpers Bizarre,
MC5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Desert Stars,
Funky Four + One,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ituana,
Quando Quango,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Human League,
Eric Dolphy,
Terry Callier,
Zero Boys,
Lakeside,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Swans,
Newcleus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soul II Soul,
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.