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 Mali and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe 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 Talk Talk to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Chris Corsano,
Skarface,
The Moleskins,
The Searchers,
the Swans,
The Divine Comedy,
Mark Hollis,
Kayak,
Marine Girls,
Lyres,
Bush Tetras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerri Chandler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Index,
Robert Wyatt,
The Invisible,
Sun City Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
K-Klass,
Alphaville,
Electric Prunes,
Gong,
Aaron Thompson,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Fat Boys,
Subhumans,
Freddie Wadling,
Second Layer,
Dead Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fuzztones,
Das Ding,
John Holt,
Scratch Acid,
Steve Hackett,
Moebius,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Amon Düül,
Faraquet,
Quando Quango,
The Cramps,
Lee Hazlewood,
Flash Fearless,
Tomorrow,
Harmonia,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott Heron,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.