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 Uganda 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grime 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kayak,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Agent Orange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Byron Stingily,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pylon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radiohead,
The Monks,
Vladislav Delay,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
The Misunderstood,
Jandek,
Rod Modell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Hill,
Anthony Braxton,
The Residents,
The Monochrome Set,
Kevin Saunderson,
Simply Red,
Girls At Our Best!,
Country Teasers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kenny Larkin,
James White and The Blacks,
Trumans Water,
New Age Steppers,
The Index,
Minutemen,
Mission of Burma,
Oblivians,
Niagra,
Suicide,
Soul Sonic Force,
X-101,
Chrome,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Five Americans,
Au Pairs,
Scratch Acid,
Eric B and Rakim,
Morten Harket,
Cecil Taylor,
Wolf Eyes,
Moss Icon,
New Order,
Intrusion,
Pere Ubu,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.