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 Swaziland and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the grime 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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Second Layer,
Moss Icon,
Blossom Toes,
Sandy B,
Cybotron,
The Mojo Men,
Lalo Schifrin,
Icehouse,
Smog,
Moby Grape,
Negative Approach,
Warsaw,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Misunderstood,
Stockholm Monsters,
Unrelated Segments,
Brass Construction,
Joyce Sims,
Aural Exciters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monolake,
The Wake,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oneida,
Jeff Lynne,
Shoche,
Jawbox,
E-Dancer,
New Age Steppers,
the Fania All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Skarface,
Deakin,
Cymande,
Yaz,
The Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Au Pairs,
Lakeside,
Nils Olav,
Organ,
The American Breed,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
John Cale,
Todd Rundgren,
Andrew Hill,
Circle Jerks,
Lucky Dragons,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crime,
Brick,
DNA,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.