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 Haiti and from Bologna.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Shuggie Otis to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scrapy,
The Walker Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blackbyrds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Janne Schatter,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Buzzcocks,
Iggy Pop,
Minnie Riperton,
Anthony Braxton,
Matthew Bourne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeff Lynne,
David McCallum,
Magazine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
B.T. Express,
Lindisfarne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Icehouse,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Doors,
Massinfluence,
Dave Gahan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
Mr. Review,
F. McDonald,
The Divine Comedy,
Bluetip,
Panda Bear,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unwound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Smiths,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
Technova,
Jawbox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Sherman,
Piero Umiliani,
EPMD,
T. Rex,
Skaos,
Marmalade,
Saccharine Trust,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roxette,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.