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 Tanzania and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Detroit Cobras to the jazz 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Easy Going,
Soul II Soul,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Black Dice,
Jawbox,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
Tres Demented,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Yellowson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sarah Menescal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harmonia,
DNA,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Porter Ricks,
Oneida,
Thee Headcoats,
Jandek,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Shoche,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
Schoolly D,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brand Nubian,
Pole,
Brick,
Isaac Hayes,
Cal Tjader,
Mr. Review,
Amon Düül,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Public Enemy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crooked Eye,
Make Up,
Massinfluence,
Black Sheep,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
B.T. Express,
Mo-Dettes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
The Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Sneak,
the Slits,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.