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 Norway and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moody Blues to the funk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Kas Product,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange,
Swans,
John Holt,
Ituana,
The Saints,
Gang Starr,
The Wake,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swell Maps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deadbeat,
Flipper,
Moss Icon,
Rites of Spring,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Sonics,
Terry Callier,
Josef K,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Electric Prunes,
Skarface,
Eli Mardock,
Quando Quango,
Oneida,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Hill,
Darondo,
Don Cherry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
Brand Nubian,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Marmalade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Magazine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeff Mills,
Alice Coltrane,
Eve St. Jones,
Smog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bluetip,
cv313,
The Cure,
Icehouse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.