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 Liberia and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Second Layer,
X-Ray Spex,
Roger Hodgson,
The Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
Von Mondo,
Minny Pops,
the Fania All-Stars,
Negative Approach,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Pharoah Sanders,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
Jacques Brel,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Fatback Band,
Wings,
Simply Red,
Marc Almond,
Gang Starr,
Brass Construction,
Gang of Four,
Ornette Coleman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boz Scaggs,
Supertramp,
This Heat,
The Leaves,
Dorothy Ashby,
Los Fastidios,
Mary Jane Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eurythmics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rotary Connection,
The Fortunes,
The Gladiators,
Danielle Patucci,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Smooth,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Sheep,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Vogues,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Essential Logic,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.