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 Ukraine and from London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stockholm Monsters to the dance 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Görl,
Rakim,
Franke,
Cymande,
Fad Gadget,
AZ,
Byron Stingily,
Dennis Brown,
Gabor Szabo,
Circle Jerks,
The Names,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yusef Lateef,
Cal Tjader,
The Cowsills,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camouflage,
Shoche,
Aswad,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
Index,
the Germs,
Sixth Finger,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
Lower 48,
Hashim,
Nico,
Maleditus Sound,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders,
Patti Smith,
Anakelly,
John Coltrane,
Hoover,
Tommy Roe,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Fear,
Scrapy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minnie Riperton,
X-101,
Swell Maps,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hot Snakes,
Neu!,
New York Dolls,
Pagans,
Matthew Halsall,
The Remains,
Blancmange,
Radiohead,
Ludus,
David McCallum,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.