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 Nepal and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Hood,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Swell Maps,
Funkadelic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Sherman,
Goldenarms,
Motorama,
The Birthday Party,
Saccharine Trust,
Bill Near,
Nirvana,
The Standells,
Warren Ellis,
Black Sheep,
Aloha Tigers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Zapp,
The Monks,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Monks,
Simply Red,
Kurtis Blow,
Donald Byrd,
The Pop Group,
LL Cool J,
Babytalk,
Ornette Coleman,
Talk Talk,
The Real Kids,
The Doors,
The Neon Judgement,
Boz Scaggs,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ice-T,
The Last Poets,
Gichy Dan,
Arcadia,
The United States of America,
X-102,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Bowie,
Bad Manners,
Pierre Henry,
Tom Boy,
Hasil Adkins,
Mad Mike,
Eurythmics,
Minnie Riperton,
Tommy Roe,
Nas,
the Germs,
DJ Sneak,
The Associates,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.