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 Paraguay and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marine Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Ultravox,
Soul II Soul,
the Association,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eddi Front,
Andrew Hill,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slackers,
F. McDonald,
Das Ding,
The Count Five,
X-101,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deakin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Bananas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donald Byrd,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
Massinfluence,
the Soft Cell,
Saccharine Trust,
Monolake,
The Knickerbockers,
The Trojans,
Black Moon,
Chrome,
Swans,
LL Cool J,
Franke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
Qualms,
Parry Music,
Guru Guru,
Deepchord,
Funky Four + One,
The Gun Club,
Patti Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Skriet,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Standells,
Suicide,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Laurel Aitken,
The Golliwogs,
Bobby Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
Agent Orange,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.