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 Dominica 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the electroclash 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Moebius,
Josef K,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Arthur Verocai,
the Sonics,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Divine Comedy,
Rotary Connection,
Sparks,
Mr. Review,
Rakim,
Pylon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fluxion,
Sonic Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Wolf Eyes,
Reuben Wilson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Motions,
Y Pants,
Symarip,
Kayak,
Sonny Sharrock,
Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Suburban Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harmonia,
Bluetip,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Buckinghams,
Harry Pussy,
Gichy Dan,
The Techniques,
Throbbing Gristle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Heaven 17,
Pet Shop Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
The Human League,
China Crisis,
Procol Harum,
The Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
Pole,
The Doors,
Prince Buster,
Skaos,
Amon Düül II,
Barrington Levy,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.