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 Bulgaria and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 Rufus Thomas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The American Breed,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boredoms,
Zero Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
K-Klass,
Amon Düül,
The Tremeloes,
Television Personalities,
Gang Starr,
The Standells,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Spandau Ballet,
Easy Going,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
Blossom Toes,
Blake Baxter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Names,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Skriet,
Mars,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cowsills,
Lalann,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kas Product,
Swans,
Main Source,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Joensuu 1685,
The Durutti Column,
The Fall,
Funkadelic,
Todd Terry,
Tim Buckley,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Matthew Halsall,
Half Japanese,
Bauhaus,
Steve Hackett,
Howard Jones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terry Callier,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang On A Can,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.