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 Venezuela and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the grime 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Chris Corsano,
New Age Steppers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cramps,
Y Pants,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Jeff Lynne,
Connie Case,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amazonics,
Joy Division,
the Normal,
Funky Four + One,
The Smoke,
The Happenings,
Neu!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Darondo,
Eric Copeland,
Steve Hackett,
Essential Logic,
Duran Duran,
Arab on Radar,
kango's stein massive,
Gastr Del Sol,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
Toni Rubio,
Alison Limerick,
Byron Stingily,
Severed Heads,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
Gang Starr,
Public Enemy,
B.T. Express,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sound Behaviour,
the Association,
Oneida,
Ohio Players,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Don Cherry,
Rotary Connection,
Chris & Cosey,
Talk Talk,
The Fortunes,
Mantronix,
Lakeside,
DJ Style,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sex Pistols,
Roxy Music,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.