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 Bolivia and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lou Christie to the punk 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Depeche Mode,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
OOIOO,
Lakeside,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
H. Thieme,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DJ Sneak,
Pulsallama,
Ossler,
Theoretical Girls,
Soft Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eden Ahbez,
Siglo XX,
The Remains,
Matthew Halsall,
A Certain Ratio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ludus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Cale,
Qualms,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang of Four,
Yusef Lateef,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fat Boys,
Slave,
AZ,
Peter and Kerry,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Hood,
Duran Duran,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fugs,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gerry Rafferty,
Letta Mbulu,
Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Godley & Creme,
Icehouse,
The Black Dice,
Amazonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oneida,
The American Breed,
New Age Steppers,
John Holt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.