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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Slits to the disco 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Glambeats Corp.,
DJ Style,
Chris & Cosey,
Trumans Water,
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
Dennis Brown,
Amazonics,
Surgeon,
Motorama,
June of 44,
The Misunderstood,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sex Pistols,
Terry Callier,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Beau Brummels,
The Doors,
Skarface,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bootsy Collins,
World's Most,
The Grass Roots,
Technova,
Tears for Fears,
Mark Hollis,
Rotary Connection,
Donald Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
The Residents,
Neil Young,
Yusef Lateef,
Pagans,
Quantec,
The Sound,
China Crisis,
cv313,
The Names,
Ken Boothe,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roy Ayers,
Amon Düül,
The American Breed,
Ronnie Foster,
Malaria!,
the Normal,
Fear,
June Days,
Neu!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dorothy Ashby,
These Immortal Souls,
Arcadia,
Mandrill,
Pulsallama,
The Slits,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.