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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
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 Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 David Axelrod to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
Freddie Wadling,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
Q and Not U,
U.S. Maple,
Byron Stingily,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Evens,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Johnny Clarke,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Sheep,
Blancmange,
Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minor Threat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Rundgren,
Mission of Burma,
Fela Kuti,
Sonny Sharrock,
Angry Samoans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Associates,
Liliput,
Wolf Eyes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Easy Going,
Popol Vuh,
Flamin' Groovies,
Symarip,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Moby Grape,
Goldenarms,
Bang On A Can,
Joey Negro,
Reuben Wilson,
Blake Baxter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
ABC,
The Monks,
Infiniti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Radiohead,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roxy Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.