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 Vietnam and from Salvador.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare 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 cv313 to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
The Fugs,
Pulsallama,
Spandau Ballet,
Crash Course in Science,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
Whodini,
The Mojo Men,
The Slits,
Wally Richardson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Matthew Bourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Delta 5,
Pere Ubu,
Parry Music,
CMW,
Pantaleimon,
Aswad,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
Shuggie Otis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review,
Ronan,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Coltrane,
The Offenders,
Model 500,
Jeff Lynne,
Don Cherry,
The Buckinghams,
Alton Ellis,
The Fortunes,
The Evens,
The Black Dice,
Neu!,
The Monks,
Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
The Music Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Clarke,
PIL,
R.M.O.,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
Cal Tjader,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
Ten City,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.