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 Nauru and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna 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?
Loose Ends,
Scrapy,
The Gories,
Aswad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
K-Klass,
The Real Kids,
The Standells,
Byron Stingily,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moby Grape,
DJ Style,
Kas Product,
Royal Trux,
Buzzcocks,
Japan,
Dead Boys,
Excepter,
Sam Rivers,
Freddie Wadling,
The Smiths,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sonny Sharrock,
Blake Baxter,
Q and Not U,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
Wire,
Reuben Wilson,
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fugs,
The Durutti Column,
ABC,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
The Kinks,
Pantytec,
Gong,
The Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cameo,
The Dirtbombs,
Sound Behaviour,
Wolf Eyes,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Smoke,
Pharoah Sanders,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Evens,
Supertramp,
Talk Talk,
Nirvana,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Skatalites,
Robert Görl,
Urselle,
Roxy Music,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.