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 Barbados and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 The Names to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Ronnie Foster,
kango's stein massive,
Easy Going,
Loose Ends,
JFA,
Gichy Dan,
Tim Buckley,
B.T. Express,
Wally Richardson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joey Negro,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Basic Channel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Animal Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boredoms,
Nils Olav,
the Normal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crooked Eye,
Erykah Badu,
Model 500,
Skarface,
Symarip,
Nico,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Litter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brass Construction,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
Derrick Morgan,
Barry Ungar,
The Knickerbockers,
Newcleus,
The Seeds,
Althea and Donna,
John Lydon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kayak,
Robert Wyatt,
One Last Wish,
Hot Snakes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
In Retrospect,
Hoover,
Alphaville,
Peter & Gordon,
UT,
Joe Smooth,
Organ,
Byron Stingily,
The Pretty Things,
Marine Girls,
H. Thieme,
The Martian,
Au Pairs,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.