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 Uzbekistan and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blake Baxter to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Fat Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
The Barracudas,
B.T. Express,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Starr,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Babytalk,
Radio Birdman,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Music Machine,
The Last Poets,
Junior Murvin,
ABC,
Lyres,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James White and The Blacks,
Stiv Bators,
Scan 7,
Television Personalities,
Anakelly,
DJ Style,
Wire,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Motions,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
F. McDonald,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arab on Radar,
Jandek,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monolake,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Peter and Kerry,
Quantec,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Charles Mingus,
Pere Ubu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Archie Shepp,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
John Lydon,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Niagra,
Urselle,
The Fugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Searchers,
John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Scratch Acid,
Moby Grape,
Jimmy McGriff,
Main Source,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.