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 Macedonia and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Underground Resistance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
John Coltrane,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DJ Style,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Lou Christie,
MDC,
Section 25,
the Normal,
Depeche Mode,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magazine,
Sugar Minott,
Robert Görl,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Little Man,
Quando Quango,
Make Up,
Eve St. Jones,
Godley & Creme,
This Heat,
Adolescents,
Black Pus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pantaleimon,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Erykah Badu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Symarip,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
K-Klass,
Camouflage,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fortunes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flash Fearless,
the Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Byrd,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang of Four,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Faust,
Drexciya,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.