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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 Ponytail to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Slits,
John Lydon,
A Certain Ratio,
the Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
The Remains,
The Tremeloes,
The Golliwogs,
Arcadia,
Infiniti,
Neil Young,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
Mad Mike,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Vogues,
The Zeros,
The Red Krayola,
Soul Sonic Force,
Drexciya,
Sister Nancy,
World's Most,
The Birthday Party,
Young Marble Giants,
Neu!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Desert Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Eden Ahbez,
Cal Tjader,
Quadrant,
Lakeside,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Smiths,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grey Daturas,
Roy Ayers,
Das Ding,
Model 500,
DJ Style,
CMW,
Sällskapet,
Don Cherry,
Skriet,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.