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 Kyrgyzstan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sight & Sound to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Pop Group,
Ituana,
K-Klass,
Ken Boothe,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grey Daturas,
Max Romeo,
Hardrive,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
The Remains,
DNA,
Marmalade,
Mark Hollis,
Gabor Szabo,
Alton Ellis,
Blossom Toes,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Iggy Pop,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
La Düsseldorf,
The Selecter,
Reuben Wilson,
Babytalk,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doobie Brothers,
Simply Red,
Chrome,
Wire,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Soft Cell,
X-101,
Todd Rundgren,
Goldenarms,
Nico,
Lou Christie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Skatalites,
Brand Nubian,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Eve St. Jones,
Make Up,
Moebius,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hashim,
The Durutti Column,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Rotary Connection,
Ten City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.