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 Indonesia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 David Axelrod to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Severed Heads,
Skriet,
FM Einheit,
Radiopuhelimet,
Albert Ayler,
Max Romeo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kerri Chandler,
Moss Icon,
Gang Starr,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
Aural Exciters,
The Pop Group,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Magma,
Mark Hollis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Pus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
LL Cool J,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
Judy Mowatt,
Pantaleimon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sällskapet,
Hasil Adkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sight & Sound,
World's Most,
The Saints,
The Divine Comedy,
Carl Craig,
Soft Machine,
Depeche Mode,
Heaven 17,
R.M.O.,
Marine Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yellowson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Model 500,
Piero Umiliani,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gabor Szabo,
Matthew Halsall,
Loose Ends,
Negative Approach,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monks,
Soft Cell,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.