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 Korea South and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ultravox to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Matthew Halsall,
the Association,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T. Rex,
Bob Dylan,
Unwound,
Black Sheep,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aswad,
The Litter,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shoche,
Junior Murvin,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Groovy Waters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
The Cure,
Eden Ahbez,
Nick Fraelich,
Ten City,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
The Barracudas,
Pussy Galore,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Martian,
Scrapy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wally Richardson,
Neu!,
Derrick May,
Laurel Aitken,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Suburban Knight,
Gabor Szabo,
Henry Cow,
Maurizio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Residents,
The Saints,
Bootsy Collins,
Piero Umiliani,
Cecil Taylor,
Scan 7,
Soulsonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.