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 Israel and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fad Gadget to the dance 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Robert Wyatt,
The Stooges,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Organ,
Tom Boy,
Aaron Thompson,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Colin Newman,
Alison Limerick,
Inner City,
Lalo Schifrin,
U.S. Maple,
Suicide,
Peter and Kerry,
The Wake,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Names,
L. Decosne,
Laurel Aitken,
Arthur Verocai,
Piero Umiliani,
John Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
Fatback Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skriet,
Sandy B,
Amazonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cure,
Technova,
Wally Richardson,
Ronan,
Bang On A Can,
Quadrant,
Funky Four + One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
The United States of America,
Supertramp,
Judy Mowatt,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lindisfarne,
Donald Byrd,
Yaz,
The Evens,
Grey Daturas,
The Gladiators,
Ossler,
Mantronix,
Deadbeat,
Sam Rivers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Siglo XX,
the Germs,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.