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 Uzbekistan and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Intrusion,
Scratch Acid,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
Skriet,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
Accadde A,
The Wake,
U.S. Maple,
Nils Olav,
Y Pants,
Desert Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
The Slits,
Man Parrish,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Lee Hazlewood,
Motorama,
The Associates,
Ituana,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sound,
The Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Can,
The Fuzztones,
T. Rex,
John Holt,
the Bar-Kays,
Moby Grape,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wasted Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Television Personalities,
Amazonics,
Porter Ricks,
Sugar Minott,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Lynne,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
June Days,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
Erasure,
The Neon Judgement,
Fela Kuti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Make Up,
Bobby Sherman,
E-Dancer,
Hot Snakes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
48th St. Collective,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.