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 Poland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Certain Ratio to the crunk 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The New Christs,
Joensuu 1685,
The Kinks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gun Club,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Suicide,
John Coltrane,
Wire,
Parry Music,
Flash Fearless,
The Mojo Men,
UT,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Altered Images,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ituana,
Ronnie Foster,
Harmonia,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
Wolf Eyes,
Pagans,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Procol Harum,
The Music Machine,
Scion,
Nick Fraelich,
Ohio Players,
Colin Newman,
the Bar-Kays,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Supertramp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
kango's stein massive,
The Wake,
Fad Gadget,
Jandek,
Hardrive,
Japan,
Yellowson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Malaria!,
Main Source,
Lyres,
June Days,
Rosa Yemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.