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 Spain and from Lyon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eve St. Jones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Sight & Sound,
Max Romeo,
Rufus Thomas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monochrome Set,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
Darondo,
Warsaw,
Interpol,
New York Dolls,
John Foxx,
Sarah Menescal,
Rapeman,
Excepter,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
Agent Orange,
Animal Collective,
Crash Course in Science,
Arab on Radar,
Archie Shepp,
Delta 5,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pussy Galore,
the Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marc Almond,
Scan 7,
The Mojo Men,
Magazine,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Henry Cow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Blackbyrds,
Subhumans,
Angry Samoans,
Michelle Simonal,
Amon Düül,
Bill Wells,
Kayak,
the Slits,
The Remains,
Matthew Bourne,
LL Cool J,
Main Source,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultravox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Los Fastidios,
Pole,
Mandrill,
Audionom,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Urselle,
Moby Grape,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.