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 Kuwait and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Talk Talk to the electroclash 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terry Callier,
The Flesh Eaters,
H. Thieme,
Glenn Branca,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pagans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Shoche,
Mary Jane Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mandrill,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Chrome,
June of 44,
Arcadia,
The Buckinghams,
Matthew Halsall,
Audionom,
Minor Threat,
Sällskapet,
Blossom Toes,
Lower 48,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Erasure,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cowsills,
Dual Sessions,
R.M.O.,
The Slackers,
Outsiders,
Bad Manners,
Organ,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Copeland,
Fat Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gichy Dan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
Tubeway Army,
Judy Mowatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Music Machine,
Moby Grape,
The Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
X-101,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
The Doors,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Masters at Work,
Crime,
Simply Red,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.