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 Sri Lanka and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kinks to the electroclash 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
Eve St. Jones,
Whodini,
Amazonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
Icehouse,
Kayak,
The Gun Club,
Mantronix,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
The Blackbyrds,
Japan,
James White and The Blacks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Circle Jerks,
The Count Five,
Wally Richardson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
Alton Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Echospace,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Infiniti,
Agitation Free,
Andrew Hill,
Ohio Players,
Cybotron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic,
Roger Hodgson,
Darondo,
AZ,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Golliwogs,
Barry Ungar,
Deepchord,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Franke,
Joensuu 1685,
Sixth Finger,
The Victims,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
Babytalk,
The Vogues,
Bob Dylan,
Television Personalities,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.