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 Kuwait and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 Gastr Del Sol to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Monochrome Set,
The American Breed,
World's Most,
Thee Headcoats,
The Trojans,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Byrd,
The Tremeloes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispy Ambulance,
This Heat,
Neil Young,
Magma,
Ossler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
Minutemen,
The Beau Brummels,
Deakin,
Chrome,
Yusef Lateef,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Darondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Vladislav Delay,
Dave Gahan,
Basic Channel,
Terry Callier,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alphaville,
The Mojo Men,
Gichy Dan,
Swell Maps,
Robert Wyatt,
K-Klass,
Jimmy McGriff,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Pus,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Görl,
Suburban Knight,
Hashim,
Lakeside,
New York Dolls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Maurizio,
The Evens,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Pierre Henry,
Man Parrish,
Underground Resistance,
Echospace,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.