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 Croatia and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Pop Group to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Cameo,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Byrd,
Camouflage,
The Evens,
Henry Cow,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris Corsano,
Sixth Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fad Gadget,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chris & Cosey,
X-102,
Black Flag,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Bourne,
The Litter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arcadia,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Bill Wells,
World's Most,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra,
kango's stein massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
The Dead C,
The Fugs,
The Star Department,
The Neon Judgement,
Niagra,
Thompson Twins,
Average White Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Bar-Kays,
Second Layer,
Clear Light,
LL Cool J,
The Smoke,
Audionom,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Real Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
The Wake,
Von Mondo,
D'Angelo,
Judy Mowatt,
Motorama,
Radiohead,
Chrome,
Donny Hathaway,
The Beau Brummels,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.