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 Belgium and from Cairo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Nation of Ulysses to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Arthur Verocai,
Bronski Beat,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Fraelich,
Cymande,
The Gap Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
The Divine Comedy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
David McCallum,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Barracudas,
Peter and Kerry,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Zapp,
Lungfish,
Wasted Youth,
Fear,
Sam Rivers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thompson Twins,
the Normal,
China Crisis,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Raincoats,
New York Dolls,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Bourne,
Aural Exciters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Colin Newman,
World's Most,
Byron Stingily,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hot Snakes,
The Techniques,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
Interpol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Symarip,
The Five Americans,
Moebius,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Y Pants,
Visage,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hasil Adkins,
Rekid,
Ituana,
Robert Hood,
The Count Five,
Jerry's Kids,
Cal Tjader,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.