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 Burkina and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Brick to the jazz 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Vogues,
Pantaleimon,
Wally Richardson,
The Victims,
Jimmy McGriff,
Curtis Mayfield,
Negative Approach,
Deadbeat,
Mandrill,
Jawbox,
The Motions,
Albert Ayler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus,
EPMD,
Don Cherry,
Michelle Simonal,
The Slits,
The Gun Club,
Minny Pops,
These Immortal Souls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Names,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sparks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dennis Brown,
Maurizio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Metal Thangz,
John Coltrane,
David Axelrod,
Groovy Waters,
The Associates,
Youth Brigade,
Anakelly,
The Tremeloes,
Japan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New Order,
Vainqueur,
The Raincoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Silicon Teens,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.