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 Colombia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Slick Rick to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Can,
Roger Hodgson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-Ray Spex,
The Mojo Men,
In Retrospect,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
The Modern Lovers,
Organ,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Hot Snakes,
Simply Red,
The Fuzztones,
One Last Wish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fad Gadget,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
ABBA,
Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Wake,
Glenn Branca,
Minutemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Yusef Lateef,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
The Victims,
Ponytail,
Gang Green,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
Morten Harket,
Barrington Levy,
Todd Rundgren,
Deepchord,
MDC,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crooked Eye,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.