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 Madagascar and from Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 Average White Band to the rock 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
Liliput,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bad Manners,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultra Naté,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Cluster,
Malaria!,
L. Decosne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blancmange,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Green,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agent Orange,
Half Japanese,
Lyres,
Arcadia,
Alton Ellis,
Marcia Griffiths,
DNA,
The Monks,
The Knickerbockers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers,
Can,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Amon Düül II,
One Last Wish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oneida,
Scan 7,
Ken Boothe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oblivians,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Matthew Bourne,
Boredoms,
Brand Nubian,
Moss Icon,
Adolescents,
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.