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 Botswana and from Halifax.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Happenings to the punk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
AZ,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Tubeway Army,
Panda Bear,
Gregory Isaacs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pulsallama,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Desert Stars,
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Raincoats,
Altered Images,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
Radio Birdman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Cale,
The Gladiators,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The J.B.'s,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marvin Gaye,
Oneida,
Lou Reed,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eurythmics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
Babytalk,
48th St. Collective,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DNA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
a-ha,
Ronnie Foster,
The Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
Surgeon,
Scrapy,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.