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 United States and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Joy Division to the dance 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blancmange,
Marmalade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cymande,
The Litter,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
Thee Headcoats,
Young Marble Giants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marine Girls,
Joey Negro,
Dennis Brown,
kango's stein massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pylon,
Agent Orange,
The Blues Magoos,
Lebanon Hanover,
Animal Collective,
OOIOO,
The Moody Blues,
Angry Samoans,
F. McDonald,
Little Man,
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Green,
Organ,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Kinks,
Skriet,
Franke,
World's Most,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Blake Baxter,
Faust,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Hill,
Lightning Bolt,
Fluxion,
Japan,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
the Sonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang On A Can,
Lakeside,
Grauzone,
China Crisis,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.