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 Norway and from Manila.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New Christs to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Unwound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang Green,
LL Cool J,
Absolute Body Control,
Animal Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
Skriet,
The Modern Lovers,
These Immortal Souls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barrington Levy,
Ice-T,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Pus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Essential Logic,
Scott Walker,
Scrapy,
The Fall,
Lyres,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yaz,
Agitation Free,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Selecter,
Camouflage,
Eric Copeland,
Prince Buster,
The Mummies,
Easy Going,
Funky Four + One,
Moss Icon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mark Hollis,
Don Cherry,
Cal Tjader,
Second Layer,
Patti Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yazoo,
A Certain Ratio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
Rod Modell,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Susan Cadogan,
Roger Hodgson,
The Trojans,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tres Demented,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Franke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gladiators,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.