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 Tunisia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Zeros to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Depeche Mode,
MDC,
Whodini,
The Count Five,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
The Litter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rakim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cheater Slicks,
The Selecter,
Spandau Ballet,
Harmonia,
The Residents,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
Maleditus Sound,
The Evens,
The Angels of Light,
Ultra Naté,
Traffic Nightmare,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doobie Brothers,
June of 44,
B.T. Express,
The Gun Club,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy Collins,
Judy Mowatt,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funky Four + One,
JFA,
Wire,
John Foxx,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
David Bowie,
Infiniti,
Wolf Eyes,
Archie Shepp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deepchord,
Section 25,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Kinks,
Scratch Acid,
Joensuu 1685,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.