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 Solomon Islands and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Boz Scaggs to the punk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sällskapet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
David McCallum,
John Foxx,
Prince Buster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Finger,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hashim,
Johnny Clarke,
Magma,
Rod Modell,
Oneida,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Maleditus Sound,
Jawbox,
David Axelrod,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
Make Up,
Man Parrish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Lungfish,
Rufus Thomas,
Royal Trux,
The Human League,
Underground Resistance,
The American Breed,
Cluster,
Hardrive,
Marvin Gaye,
PIL,
Gang Starr,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Martian,
Ludus,
the Germs,
Soft Cell,
Bobby Sherman,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Todd Rundgren,
Average White Band,
The Monks,
Alphaville,
Letta Mbulu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maurizio,
Danielle Patucci,
Toni Rubio,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.