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 Comoros and from Bologna.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Royal Trux to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Residents,
Procol Harum,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pierre Henry,
E-Dancer,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
The Cowsills,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yaz,
Dark Day,
Al Stewart,
Blancmange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Y Pants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quando Quango,
Hashim,
David McCallum,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spandau Ballet,
The Zeros,
Absolute Body Control,
Roxy Music,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris Corsano,
Aswad,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tomorrow,
Schoolly D,
JFA,
Connie Case,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mandrill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Sonic Youth,
Alton Ellis,
Kaleidoscope,
Sister Nancy,
Von Mondo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television Personalities,
Grauzone,
Soul II Soul,
Henry Cow,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blossom Toes,
Pantaleimon,
Camberwell Now,
James White and The Blacks,
Youth Brigade,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultravox,
Simply Red,
Sixth Finger,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.