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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bremen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
Japan,
Ronnie Foster,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
The Saints,
Hashim,
World's Most,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Don Cherry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Underground Resistance,
Lindisfarne,
Kerri Chandler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Juan Atkins,
Rufus Thomas,
Al Stewart,
the Sonics,
Whodini,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
Wally Richardson,
Tim Buckley,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harmonia,
Qualms,
Jerry's Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Technova,
Grauzone,
EPMD,
Sex Pistols,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantaleimon,
PIL,
The Monochrome Set,
Donny Hathaway,
Glenn Branca,
Circle Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
New York Dolls,
Magazine,
Chris Corsano,
Zero Boys,
the Swans,
The Invisible,
Robert Görl,
Magma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.