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 Guatemala and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Massinfluence to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bob Dylan,
Y Pants,
Ice-T,
The J.B.'s,
Symarip,
Juan Atkins,
Los Fastidios,
Camberwell Now,
Black Flag,
Sister Nancy,
Patti Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
AZ,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Bourne,
Chris Corsano,
Panda Bear,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drexciya,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boredoms,
Hardrive,
Ronan,
Rufus Thomas,
Bootsy Collins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Sound Behaviour,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Charles Mingus,
Basic Channel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Al Stewart,
Spandau Ballet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler,
Erasure,
Oblivians,
Aaron Thompson,
Trumans Water,
Blake Baxter,
Magazine,
Country Teasers,
Pantytec,
Arthur Verocai,
Kevin Saunderson,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
The Walker Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
June of 44,
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.