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 Serbia and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Amon Düül II to the jazz 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Enemy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Last Poets,
Easy Going,
The Dirtbombs,
Pere Ubu,
A Certain Ratio,
Spandau Ballet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dual Sessions,
PIL,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Swans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Altered Images,
The Leaves,
Intrusion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Flag,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
Goldenarms,
Matthew Bourne,
Junior Murvin,
Sun Ra,
Brothers Johnson,
Ornette Coleman,
Howard Jones,
Joe Finger,
Marvin Gaye,
June of 44,
Marcia Griffiths,
Malaria!,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Blues Magoos,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sex Pistols,
New Order,
Mandrill,
John Foxx,
Funky Four + One,
Rapeman,
Livin' Joy,
Black Pus,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Terry,
Newcleus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Drexciya,
Panda Bear,
Roxette,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.