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 Malawi and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
48th St. Collective,
Hoover,
Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
The Last Poets,
Nick Fraelich,
Brothers Johnson,
Darondo,
Nils Olav,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Invisible,
Yellowson,
Piero Umiliani,
MDC,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
OOIOO,
Cameo,
Index,
Agent Orange,
Gang Green,
Deakin,
Depeche Mode,
The Residents,
Man Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cramps,
Warsaw,
Icehouse,
Brick,
The Fall,
The Grass Roots,
Second Layer,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
Charles Mingus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roxy Music,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Faust,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül,
Bad Manners,
Desert Stars,
Hardrive,
Scientists,
Reagan Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Royal Trux,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Das Ding,
Dennis Brown,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.