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 France and from Delhi.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the snare 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 Excepter to the dance 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Dawn Penn,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amazonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tommy Roe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
June Days,
Zapp,
Duran Duran,
Vainqueur,
La Düsseldorf,
The Index,
Arthur Verocai,
The Evens,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
Anthony Braxton,
Curtis Mayfield,
Toni Rubio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Newcleus,
New Order,
Eric Dolphy,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
Cal Tjader,
Porter Ricks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
Ronan,
Funkadelic,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young,
The Trojans,
Reagan Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
Heaven 17,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brass Construction,
Moss Icon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David McCallum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantytec,
The Move,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Sound,
Josef K,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.