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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Royal Trux to the rap 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Girls At Our Best!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Colin Newman,
The Offenders,
Tim Buckley,
Royal Trux,
Ken Boothe,
Sparks,
Aural Exciters,
Black Sheep,
Sällskapet,
Section 25,
Pantytec,
Neu!,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultravox,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Donny Hathaway,
Schoolly D,
Gang Green,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arcadia,
Glenn Branca,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eurythmics,
Godley & Creme,
Fear,
Parry Music,
Scrapy,
Eve St. Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arthur Verocai,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare,
Mission of Burma,
Pussy Galore,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
10cc,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Organ,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Essential Logic,
Archie Shepp,
The Selecter,
Von Mondo,
Terry Callier,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.