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 Netherlands and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Teasers to the grime 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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Young Rascals,
The Black Dice,
Minor Threat,
Alton Ellis,
Jandek,
Mary Jane Girls,
Basic Channel,
Quando Quango,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
David Axelrod,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fortunes,
R.M.O.,
Aaron Thompson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moby Grape,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Almond,
Scan 7,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Association,
Sound Behaviour,
Rufus Thomas,
Ponytail,
Wings,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
Terry Callier,
The Cramps,
The Dave Clark Five,
L. Decosne,
The Stooges,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Urselle,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brass Construction,
New Age Steppers,
Bang On A Can,
Erykah Badu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cluster,
Leonard Cohen,
Drexciya,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
Main Source,
Duran Duran,
Zapp,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Susan Cadogan,
Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Make Up,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.