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 Panama and from Lagos.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DNA to the rap 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Lungfish,
The Neon Judgement,
The Tremeloes,
Faust,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brick,
B.T. Express,
Moebius,
This Heat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Altered Images,
Lindisfarne,
Marc Almond,
Patti Smith,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crispian St. Peters,
DNA,
Oblivians,
Los Fastidios,
Harmonia,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Whodini,
Procol Harum,
The Human League,
Pussy Galore,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Underground Resistance,
Tommy Roe,
Skarface,
cv313,
Japan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Don Cherry,
The Gun Club,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terry Callier,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Angels of Light,
The Offenders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dead Boys,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Hutcherson,
a-ha,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
Loose Ends,
Ronan,
Groovy Waters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mantronix,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Stooges,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.