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 Egypt and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Magma to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Eve St. Jones,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Fortunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aswad,
Audionom,
Mo-Dettes,
Liliput,
Hasil Adkins,
Colin Newman,
Dead Boys,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon,
Neu!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Animal Collective,
The Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soul II Soul,
The Names,
Tom Boy,
Stereo Dub,
Hardrive,
The Durutti Column,
Sun City Girls,
Mission of Burma,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Althea and Donna,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
the Germs,
Jeff Mills,
Bill Near,
The Zeros,
Half Japanese,
the Swans,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moody Blues,
Heaven 17,
Mars,
T.S.O.L.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siglo XX,
Pole,
Yellowson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sarah Menescal,
Schoolly D,
Jacques Brel,
Moss Icon,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
The Kinks,
Wolf Eyes,
Blossom Toes,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.