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 Brazil and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 The Dave Clark Five to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rapeman,
Shuggie Otis,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wally Richardson,
Rosa Yemen,
Main Source,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Freddie Wadling,
The Techniques,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Mills,
The Selecter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lightning Bolt,
Altered Images,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David Axelrod,
The Fugs,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Almond,
Ken Boothe,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delta 5,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Görl,
Sister Nancy,
The Cowsills,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
The Blues Magoos,
Circle Jerks,
Joy Division,
Arthur Verocai,
John Lydon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Terry Callier,
Joey Negro,
Quadrant,
Franke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swell Maps,
Dark Day,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nico,
Theoretical Girls,
Judy Mowatt,
the Swans,
Bobby Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Newcleus,
Lungfish,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.