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 Haiti and from Taipei.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Blancmange to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers,
Infiniti,
Porter Ricks,
Spandau Ballet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Searchers,
DJ Sneak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
The Smoke,
Fluxion,
Das Ding,
Mr. Review,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arcadia,
The Remains,
Accadde A,
John Holt,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Sherman,
The Evens,
Bang On A Can,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mandrill,
The Seeds,
X-102,
Matthew Halsall,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Moody Blues,
Rufus Thomas,
Little Man,
Prince Buster,
The Standells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Lucky Dragons,
Siglo XX,
Judy Mowatt,
Freddie Wadling,
Deadbeat,
The Blackbyrds,
Public Enemy,
Chris & Cosey,
Howard Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Certain Ratio,
Pantytec,
New Age Steppers,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.