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 Thailand and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Standells to the rap 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kayak,
B.T. Express,
The Star Department,
Harry Pussy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
PIL,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Selecter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
Blake Baxter,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Clear Light,
Fugazi,
These Immortal Souls,
Sällskapet,
Aural Exciters,
Quando Quango,
48th St. Collective,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
FM Einheit,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dark Day,
T.S.O.L.,
Khruangbin,
Intrusion,
Ultimate Spinach,
Patti Smith,
Flash Fearless,
the Slits,
Alison Limerick,
Mantronix,
Terry Callier,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pylon,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cal Tjader,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minny Pops,
Don Cherry,
Rotary Connection,
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
Minutemen,
Donald Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Au Pairs,
Scott Walker,
The Smoke,
Nirvana,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.