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 Spain and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Reagan Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Boredoms,
Rakim,
The Gun Club,
the Bar-Kays,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sexual Harrassment,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Move,
The Buckinghams,
Brick,
David Axelrod,
kango's stein massive,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
Glenn Branca,
Erykah Badu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Khruangbin,
The Golliwogs,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mark Hollis,
Lower 48,
Rites of Spring,
Magazine,
Siglo XX,
Harmonia,
Funky Four + One,
The Fall,
the Swans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
La Düsseldorf,
Unwound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Althea and Donna,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Excepter,
Eli Mardock,
Howard Jones,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Pulsallama,
Robert Wyatt,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doors,
The Fire Engines,
Donny Hathaway,
U.S. Maple,
OOIOO,
Subhumans,
In Retrospect,
Matthew Halsall,
Stetsasonic,
Eric B and Rakim,
10cc,
Popol Vuh,
Audionom,
Heaven 17,
The Slits,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.