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 Kazakhstan and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mission of Burma,
The Grass Roots,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
Sixth Finger,
Mr. Review,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Slits,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Busters,
Monks,
Pylon,
Lou Christie,
Black Sheep,
Interpol,
The Fugs,
Quando Quango,
Faust,
Dave Gahan,
Niagra,
Eve St. Jones,
R.M.O.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DJ Style,
Radio Birdman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Velvet Underground,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang of Four,
The Barracudas,
Surgeon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Sneak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Slick Rick,
Banda Bassotti,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed,
The Zeros,
Graham Central Station,
Fat Boys,
Marine Girls,
The Associates,
The Misunderstood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sam Rivers,
Smog,
The Pretty Things,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Green,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.