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 Armenia and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Fear,
Robert Hood,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Silicon Teens,
Q and Not U,
Scrapy,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Panda Bear,
The Human League,
Amon Düül,
Fluxion,
Sandy B,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tubeway Army,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Popol Vuh,
MC5,
Sam Rivers,
Average White Band,
Groovy Waters,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Mandrill,
Lucky Dragons,
Max Romeo,
X-101,
Shuggie Otis,
The Remains,
Pylon,
The Stooges,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Echospace,
The Busters,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yazoo,
Ossler,
The Skatalites,
D'Angelo,
David Axelrod,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
Sex Pistols,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
The Vogues,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Kaleidoscope,
Pantaleimon,
Don Cherry,
Erykah Badu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.