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 Belgium and from Stockholm.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 Swell Maps to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Hardrive,
Skarface,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Suicide,
Lou Christie,
Byron Stingily,
ABC,
Piero Umiliani,
Royal Trux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
The Vogues,
Letta Mbulu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
F. McDonald,
Nick Fraelich,
Skriet,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Electric Prunes,
Faust,
Josef K,
Bang On A Can,
MC5,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Barry Ungar,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun City Girls,
Davy DMX,
Franke,
Cameo,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magma,
Bill Near,
The Dirtbombs,
Animal Collective,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed,
The Skatalites,
Albert Ayler,
Max Romeo,
Jerry's Kids,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amon Düül,
Mission of Burma,
Bauhaus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Q65,
Alton Ellis,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tommy Roe,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.