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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rap 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
Fatback Band,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Masters at Work,
Can,
Soul II Soul,
Grandmaster Flash,
Infiniti,
Intrusion,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Offenders,
Bang On A Can,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Starr,
Pantytec,
Donny Hathaway,
Second Layer,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ronan,
The Move,
Sugar Minott,
June Days,
Excepter,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Wells,
Pussy Galore,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Derrick May,
Altered Images,
Skriet,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erykah Badu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blackbyrds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
KRS-One,
Urselle,
The Cramps,
Yusef Lateef,
Ohio Players,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oneida,
Dead Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Morten Harket,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Stooges,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.