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 Croatia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 Walker Brothers to the punk 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Make Up,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arab on Radar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television Personalities,
Sixth Finger,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Y Pants,
Flash Fearless,
Slave,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scientists,
Q and Not U,
The Birthday Party,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Knickerbockers,
Marc Almond,
Scrapy,
Basic Channel,
ABBA,
Magazine,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
Skarface,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camouflage,
Zapp,
Sun City Girls,
Crash Course in Science,
Aural Exciters,
Qualms,
Matthew Halsall,
Alison Limerick,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Misunderstood,
Archie Shepp,
Wally Richardson,
Peter & Gordon,
The Vogues,
Quando Quango,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Byrd,
L. Decosne,
Andrew Hill,
Motorama,
Eve St. Jones,
Bob Dylan,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
The Cowsills,
Section 25,
Nils Olav,
Fatback Band,
Interpol,
Magma,
Roxette,
Audionom,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.