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 Belgium and from Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Derrick Morgan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Das Ding,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Patti Smith,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sonic Youth,
cv313,
The Red Krayola,
Tommy Roe,
The Standells,
The Dave Clark Five,
Danielle Patucci,
Crooked Eye,
Reuben Wilson,
The Move,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pet Shop Boys,
48th St. Collective,
The Mummies,
Dawn Penn,
Sällskapet,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Q65,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The United States of America,
LL Cool J,
Oneida,
Fluxion,
JFA,
Sparks,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
The Shadows of Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cramps,
UT,
Barbara Tucker,
Adolescents,
The Busters,
The Monochrome Set,
Scan 7,
Ken Boothe,
The Victims,
The Doors,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deakin,
ABC,
Darondo,
The Fortunes,
Porter Ricks,
Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DJ Style,
Khruangbin,
New Order,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.