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 Australia and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Ten City to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Porter Ricks,
Bang On A Can,
Steve Hackett,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David Axelrod,
Sugar Minott,
Mr. Review,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Sherman,
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Von Mondo,
Thompson Twins,
The Gap Band,
DNA,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dawn Penn,
The Fortunes,
Albert Ayler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-102,
Reuben Wilson,
Amazonics,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
The Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
Circle Jerks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cal Tjader,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
La Düsseldorf,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wings,
Symarip,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Kurtis Blow,
Fugazi,
Sound Behaviour,
Prince Buster,
The Divine Comedy,
The Skatalites,
MC5,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.