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 Greece and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Sight & Sound to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Index,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Vladislav Delay,
The Neon Judgement,
Suicide,
Funky Four + One,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delta 5,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Birthday Party,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tom Boy,
Derrick May,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Andrew Hill,
The Star Department,
The United States of America,
the Soft Cell,
The Alarm Clocks,
Animal Collective,
Young Marble Giants,
Los Fastidios,
Blake Baxter,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare,
Eve St. Jones,
48th St. Collective,
E-Dancer,
Mandrill,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Lou Christie,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
Black Bananas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hoover,
Ronan,
Half Japanese,
Malaria!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
Judy Mowatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.