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 Austria and from New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Con Funk Shun to the crunk 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Archie Shepp,
Urselle,
Jacob Miller,
Television Personalities,
Frankie Knuckles,
Magma,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
Cameo,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
Section 25,
The Fugs,
The Count Five,
The Fire Engines,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jeff Lynne,
Radio Birdman,
Bob Dylan,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter & Gordon,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
The Evens,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tim Buckley,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
LL Cool J,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
UT,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
Minor Threat,
Dawn Penn,
Brick,
Ossler,
Tears for Fears,
H. Thieme,
The Fortunes,
The Beau Brummels,
The Remains,
Minny Pops,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
Anakelly,
The Litter,
Sex Pistols,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun City Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Trojans,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.