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 Romania and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Al Stewart,
Jacques Brel,
Kas Product,
Carl Craig,
The Motions,
Jandek,
The Divine Comedy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Skatalites,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Piero Umiliani,
Aural Exciters,
Scott Walker,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
Shoche,
Ice-T,
Mo-Dettes,
Eden Ahbez,
Ronnie Foster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neu!,
Mantronix,
The Music Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Howard Jones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cecil Taylor,
Nas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chrome,
Eli Mardock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fatback Band,
Aswad,
Erykah Badu,
The Beau Brummels,
Model 500,
Scrapy,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Section 25,
Harmonia,
Bang On A Can,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultravox,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Altered Images,
Hot Snakes,
Wolf Eyes,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.