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 Kazakhstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Brand Nubian to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Remains,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
Kayak,
John Coltrane,
The Martian,
Bill Near,
B.T. Express,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Buzzcocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Seeds,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lower 48,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joyce Sims,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Roxy Music,
Quantec,
the Swans,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can,
Pagans,
Suicide,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Soft Cell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Black Dice,
Robert Hood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yazoo,
Motorama,
Unrelated Segments,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Pus,
Second Layer,
Icehouse,
Black Bananas,
UT,
Panda Bear,
Electric Prunes,
Fela Kuti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eve St. Jones,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ronan,
Excepter,
Average White Band,
Scratch Acid,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.