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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neu!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Godley & Creme,
Aloha Tigers,
Excepter,
Steve Hackett,
The Motions,
Brand Nubian,
Tim Buckley,
The Dirtbombs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eddi Front,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
The Associates,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Wasted Youth,
David McCallum,
The Neon Judgement,
The Wake,
Bob Dylan,
the Normal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Walker Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
Q and Not U,
Prince Buster,
Howard Jones,
Jawbox,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Hill,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sight & Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun Ra,
Youth Brigade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Idris Muhammad,
Eli Mardock,
Deepchord,
Tom Boy,
Wally Richardson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Metal Thangz,
The Vogues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiohead,
The Gladiators,
Frankie Knuckles,
Urselle,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scan 7,
Glenn Branca,
Harry Pussy,
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Skarface,
Cameo,
The Doors,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.