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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Albert Ayler to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Camouflage,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Names,
Carl Craig,
Brothers Johnson,
Echospace,
The Tremeloes,
Hoover,
Ohio Players,
Hasil Adkins,
Steve Hackett,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Groovy Waters,
Quadrant,
T. Rex,
La Düsseldorf,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Janne Schatter,
Morten Harket,
Deakin,
Rites of Spring,
48th St. Collective,
Donald Byrd,
Interpol,
Lakeside,
Barry Ungar,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Rakim,
The Young Rascals,
Quantec,
Lungfish,
the Slits,
Can,
Second Layer,
Danielle Patucci,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
Susan Cadogan,
Harry Pussy,
Laurel Aitken,
Accadde A,
Howard Jones,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
The Litter,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Green,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.