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 Eritrea 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Dolphy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Swell Maps,
Pantytec,
The Fuzztones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dead C,
Loose Ends,
The Seeds,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barbara Tucker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hardrive,
Suburban Knight,
Iggy Pop,
the Association,
Unrelated Segments,
Marine Girls,
AZ,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Womack,
the Slits,
Public Enemy,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
JFA,
Gil Scott Heron,
David Bowie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lower 48,
Quantec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thee Headcoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jacques Brel,
Khruangbin,
the Soft Cell,
T. Rex,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Invisible,
Guru Guru,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Q and Not U,
Wings,
Fear,
Monolake,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mr. Review,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.