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 Georgia and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Funkadelic to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
The Sound,
Motorama,
Hardrive,
Sam Rivers,
Eddi Front,
the Association,
Index,
The Martian,
Letta Mbulu,
Silicon Teens,
Delta 5,
The Smiths,
U.S. Maple,
Negative Approach,
Liliput,
Outsiders,
The Litter,
The Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brick,
June of 44,
Nils Olav,
Stiv Bators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Lynne,
Fluxion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Simply Red,
Stockholm Monsters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
OOIOO,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang On A Can,
the Germs,
Roxy Music,
Au Pairs,
Hoover,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Hill,
T. Rex,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxette,
Altered Images,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moleskins,
Brand Nubian,
Terry Callier,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
Camberwell Now,
Rekid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
The Young Rascals,
PIL,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.