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 London.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kerri Chandler to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Boz Scaggs,
Theoretical Girls,
Aswad,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Adolescents,
Quadrant,
Rapeman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vainqueur,
The Divine Comedy,
Stiv Bators,
Radiohead,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
Mr. Review,
Mark Hollis,
The Human League,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott Heron,
Banda Bassotti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lyres,
Leonard Cohen,
Bob Dylan,
Joensuu 1685,
Maurizio,
The Walker Brothers,
Intrusion,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scratch Acid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tears for Fears,
Second Layer,
DJ Sneak,
Shuggie Otis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kerri Chandler,
Sparks,
Reuben Wilson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The United States of America,
Boredoms,
Deepchord,
Schoolly D,
Barbara Tucker,
Au Pairs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
F. McDonald,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hot Snakes,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.