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 Chad and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soul II Soul to the rock 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Deakin,
LL Cool J,
Gregory Isaacs,
Los Fastidios,
Suburban Knight,
The Kinks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
The Birthday Party,
ABC,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Junior Murvin,
The Names,
Agitation Free,
Freddie Wadling,
Scratch Acid,
Skarface,
Rites of Spring,
the Bar-Kays,
Arthur Verocai,
Fear,
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
AZ,
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
Jacques Brel,
Bluetip,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rekid,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Darondo,
Wally Richardson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dirtbombs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sam Rivers,
Roxette,
Kayak,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.