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 Taiwan 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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Outsiders to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Skatalites,
Soft Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Desert Stars,
Mandrill,
the Human League,
Hashim,
Television Personalities,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacob Miller,
Barrington Levy,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
The Knickerbockers,
AZ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Bananas,
Ice-T,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Public Enemy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cheater Slicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Offenders,
Eden Ahbez,
Subhumans,
The New Christs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-101,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
Goldenarms,
The Litter,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultra Naté,
Eve St. Jones,
Excepter,
Franke,
Wings,
The Toasters,
Y Pants,
Section 25,
Marvin Gaye,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Mills,
ABBA,
The Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joy Division,
the Slits,
T.S.O.L.,
The Beau Brummels,
Eurythmics,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.