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 Israel and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 James White and The Blacks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sex Pistols,
Iggy Pop,
The Fuzztones,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Davy DMX,
Jimmy McGriff,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
Parry Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Wyatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Byrd,
The Busters,
Thompson Twins,
Urselle,
Sixth Finger,
Alphaville,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rekid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Görl,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ten City,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yaz,
Barbara Tucker,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Jerry's Kids,
The Litter,
Das Ding,
Steve Hackett,
Neu!,
Bob Dylan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Patti Smith,
Chrome,
PIL,
John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
the Swans,
The Sonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hardrive,
Jeff Lynne,
Public Enemy,
Stereo Dub,
CMW,
Lyres,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.