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 Denmark and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras 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 electroclash 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Raincoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Blake Baxter,
Matthew Bourne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mo-Dettes,
Al Stewart,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
The Invisible,
The Leaves,
Kerrie Biddell,
Max Romeo,
Peter & Gordon,
Q65,
Boredoms,
Derrick May,
World's Most,
Yellowson,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
The Residents,
Dark Day,
The Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lakeside,
Flash Fearless,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pulsallama,
Visage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra,
Crash Course in Science,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Black Dice,
Sister Nancy,
Black Pus,
Thee Headcoats,
Ten City,
Dawn Penn,
Zapp,
Monks,
the Normal,
The Count Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Liliput,
Lower 48,
Roy Ayers,
The Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
Camberwell Now,
Chris & Cosey,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.