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 France and from London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 T. Rex to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Beau Brummels,
Pagans,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grey Daturas,
Wings,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
Sugar Minott,
Accadde A,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pretty Things,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Style,
The Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echospace,
Pussy Galore,
The Motions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
Stereo Dub,
The Count Five,
Alton Ellis,
Panda Bear,
Au Pairs,
Yaz,
Tubeway Army,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Alison Limerick,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
The Black Dice,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Swans,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
The Martian,
The Human League,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quadrant,
kango's stein massive,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Sneak,
The Standells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
Alphaville,
Japan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Das Ding,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.