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 Venezuela and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Darondo to the funk 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Ronan,
Icehouse,
The Index,
Oneida,
Gong,
The Zeros,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
Toni Rubio,
Ponytail,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül II,
The Mojo Men,
Archie Shepp,
Nik Kershaw,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantytec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Chris Corsano,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Invisible,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camouflage,
Gabor Szabo,
The Happenings,
In Retrospect,
Can,
Sparks,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Bronski Beat,
Wire,
Anthony Braxton,
The Misunderstood,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Brick,
Amon Düül,
Dennis Brown,
The Mummies,
Fatback Band,
Ultra Naté,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
The Leaves,
Chris & Cosey,
Newcleus,
The Cowsills,
D'Angelo,
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Panda Bear,
Absolute Body Control,
Tim Buckley,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.