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 Belize and from New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the crunk 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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
The Buckinghams,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wings,
Barrington Levy,
Quadrant,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Surgeon,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Black Dice,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rufus Thomas,
Goldenarms,
Warsaw,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lindisfarne,
The Fire Engines,
Skriet,
Deakin,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
Howard Jones,
The Standells,
Terry Callier,
London Community Gospel Choir,
David Axelrod,
Whodini,
Country Teasers,
Angry Samoans,
Royal Trux,
Sonic Youth,
The Searchers,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacques Brel,
The Toasters,
Fad Gadget,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cramps,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lalann,
Sixth Finger,
the Normal,
Mo-Dettes,
ABBA,
Rekid,
Quando Quango,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sparks,
Swell Maps,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reuben Wilson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Donald Byrd,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.