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 Madrid.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 David Bowie 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 Fad Gadget to the rap 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
Rufus Thomas,
Wasted Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Camberwell Now,
Aural Exciters,
Rosa Yemen,
Boz Scaggs,
Nick Fraelich,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Evens,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pet Shop Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Ohio Players,
Matthew Bourne,
The Neon Judgement,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lalann,
Schoolly D,
Liliput,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Knickerbockers,
The Monks,
Livin' Joy,
Black Sheep,
Cymande,
Youth Brigade,
T. Rex,
Malaria!,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fifty Foot Hose,
UT,
Spandau Ballet,
Scrapy,
Index,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Seeds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mummies,
Mo-Dettes,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Machine,
Kas Product,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
cv313,
The Invisible,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rotary Connection,
X-101,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Los Fastidios,
Clear Light,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.