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 Andorra and from Lyon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sam Rivers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Joe Finger,
Dawn Penn,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-101,
Monolake,
Khruangbin,
The Residents,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Maurizio,
Roy Ayers,
Brass Construction,
X-Ray Spex,
Delon & Dalcan,
Laurel Aitken,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kerri Chandler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ornette Coleman,
Barrington Levy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Mojo Men,
The Stooges,
Jeff Lynne,
Fat Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Godley & Creme,
The Leaves,
Arab on Radar,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Hill,
Tom Boy,
The Walker Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
F. McDonald,
Gang Starr,
Gang of Four,
Ronnie Foster,
Massinfluence,
Rapeman,
The Divine Comedy,
Thee Headcoats,
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
Lou Christie,
JFA,
Mo-Dettes,
Ten City,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Parry Music,
cv313,
Yellowson,
Drexciya,
Gastr Del Sol,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.