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 Sri Lanka and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Aswad to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Quantec,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yellowson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shoche,
Eric Dolphy,
Warren Ellis,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Byrd,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Country Teasers,
The Stooges,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pussy Galore,
The Electric Prunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scion,
Eddi Front,
Toni Rubio,
Fear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul II Soul,
Harry Pussy,
Thompson Twins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mission of Burma,
Lalann,
The Sound,
Slick Rick,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Rod Modell,
Echospace,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gladiators,
Pantytec,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
Bad Manners,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Second Layer,
Robert Görl,
Fat Boys,
T. Rex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Maurizio,
Kerri Chandler,
Dark Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sugar Minott,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.