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 Sudan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pretty Things to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Letta Mbulu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nik Kershaw,
Au Pairs,
The Invisible,
The Motions,
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
The Zeros,
Heaven 17,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Scrapy,
Quando Quango,
The Moleskins,
The Misunderstood,
ABBA,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
The Sound,
Deadbeat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Dolphy,
Goldenarms,
Grey Daturas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Move,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
The Angels of Light,
David Axelrod,
Camberwell Now,
Johnny Clarke,
Nico,
Vainqueur,
Josef K,
Deepchord,
The Fall,
K-Klass,
Wally Richardson,
Mission of Burma,
Negative Approach,
The Durutti Column,
Siglo XX,
Tim Buckley,
Janne Schatter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Happenings,
Warsaw,
Freddie Wadling,
Stiv Bators,
Marmalade,
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
Juan Atkins,
Susan Cadogan,
The J.B.'s,
Pantytec,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.