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 Honduras and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Monks,
Terry Callier,
Arab on Radar,
Harmonia,
Gastr Del Sol,
Swans,
Ice-T,
Lungfish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mad Mike,
The Misunderstood,
Roxy Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
FM Einheit,
The Blackbyrds,
R.M.O.,
Black Moon,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Smoke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Delta 5,
The Pop Group,
Average White Band,
Tommy Roe,
Joey Negro,
Parry Music,
Trumans Water,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Bananas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Youth Brigade,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerri Chandler,
Subhumans,
Babytalk,
Ronan,
B.T. Express,
Duran Duran,
the Germs,
Danielle Patucci,
Fela Kuti,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blues Magoos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric Dolphy,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Offenders,
Andrew Hill,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Man Parrish,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.