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 Belize and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radio Birdman to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Kaleidoscope,
Wire,
Roxette,
Deepchord,
Slick Rick,
Tropical Tobacco,
LL Cool J,
Joey Negro,
Grauzone,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scion,
Pantytec,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grey Daturas,
Wolf Eyes,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Copeland,
X-102,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Whodini,
The Count Five,
The Five Americans,
David McCallum,
Arthur Verocai,
New York Dolls,
The Doors,
Steve Hackett,
The Divine Comedy,
The Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Cymande,
Barbara Tucker,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sound Behaviour,
Neil Young,
Silicon Teens,
Desert Stars,
The Young Rascals,
Aural Exciters,
Barrington Levy,
Soul II Soul,
Lalann,
Q65,
James White and The Blacks,
Chris & Cosey,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Association,
The Names,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Finger,
Model 500,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.