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 Germany 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pere Ubu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Tremeloes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Moss Icon,
Symarip,
Shuggie Otis,
Interpol,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Piero Umiliani,
Vainqueur,
The Martian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cheater Slicks,
Deepchord,
David McCallum,
Newcleus,
Tubeway Army,
Big Daddy Kane,
Al Stewart,
Mandrill,
Swell Maps,
Wire,
Sugar Minott,
Ten City,
The Barracudas,
Sam Rivers,
Erykah Badu,
James White and The Blacks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Letta Mbulu,
Boz Scaggs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neu!,
Pussy Galore,
The Misunderstood,
Livin' Joy,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Clarke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eric Dolphy,
Lebanon Hanover,
The United States of America,
Youth Brigade,
Jandek,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gap Band,
LL Cool J,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.