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 Slovenia and from Lyon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 X-Ray Spex to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Camberwell Now,
Moebius,
Rites of Spring,
Bizarre Inc.,
Groovy Waters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Sonics,
Terry Callier,
Terrestrial Tones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fear,
Skriet,
The Moleskins,
Pulsallama,
DJ Style,
Bad Manners,
Sun City Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
F. McDonald,
The Tremeloes,
10cc,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
Nirvana,
Matthew Halsall,
Ituana,
A Certain Ratio,
Mandrill,
Yusef Lateef,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minnie Riperton,
Blancmange,
Brass Construction,
Howard Jones,
Black Pus,
Funkadelic,
Yazoo,
The Stooges,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Barracudas,
Ultra Naté,
PIL,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sarah Menescal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerri Chandler,
Simply Red,
Delta 5,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Buzzcocks,
The Music Machine,
Country Teasers,
Gang Green,
Eli Mardock,
David Bowie,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.