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 Sri Lanka and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Intrusion to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Cal Tjader,
Fela Kuti,
Stiv Bators,
Unwound,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Average White Band,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Lakeside,
Drive Like Jehu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quando Quango,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Cell,
Sonic Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
The Divine Comedy,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Dorothy Ashby,
The United States of America,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cecil Taylor,
Graham Central Station,
The Misunderstood,
The Barracudas,
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
X-102,
Goldenarms,
Crooked Eye,
Eurythmics,
The Durutti Column,
Sun City Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Monks,
The Toasters,
Black Moon,
Wolf Eyes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
the Swans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sällskapet,
Sugar Minott,
The Leaves,
Aloha Tigers,
Blancmange,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
Jandek,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Infiniti,
Letta Mbulu,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.