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 Italy and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Cure to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays 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?
Thee Headcoats,
Mark Hollis,
Morten Harket,
The Names,
Faust,
Cheater Slicks,
The New Christs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxette,
Cameo,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grauzone,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Al Stewart,
Byron Stingily,
Talk Talk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Hood,
Inner City,
Lakeside,
Can,
The Motions,
Skriet,
The Cure,
Warsaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül,
Scientists,
Faraquet,
Crash Course in Science,
Hasil Adkins,
Scrapy,
Freddie Wadling,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flash Fearless,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
CMW,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Simply Red,
Kenny Larkin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
Second Layer,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Max Romeo,
World's Most,
Carl Craig,
Electric Prunes,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.