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 Morocco and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wake to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Darondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
Mandrill,
Section 25,
D'Angelo,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Colin Newman,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cowsills,
Radiohead,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Golliwogs,
F. McDonald,
Graham Central Station,
The Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gabor Szabo,
Stereo Dub,
Country Teasers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crime,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
Donald Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Wasted Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Wells,
Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Connie Case,
The Evens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Echospace,
Liliput,
The Motions,
Kurtis Blow,
Tomorrow,
Trumans Water,
Quadrant,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
Bobby Sherman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.