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 St Lucia and from Lyon.
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 Houston and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Michelle Simonal to the crunk 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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Buzzcocks,
Icehouse,
Roger Hodgson,
The Residents,
Heaven 17,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Amazonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Pulsallama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Depeche Mode,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Altered Images,
Marvin Gaye,
Oneida,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Nils Olav,
Tres Demented,
The Real Kids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sandy B,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
Shoche,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Desert Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
Minutemen,
Johnny Clarke,
Faust,
Audionom,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Carl Craig,
Warren Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Liliput,
Freddie Wadling,
Ossler,
The Selecter,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
La Düsseldorf,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.