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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mummies to the rap 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
CMW,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Patti Smith,
T.S.O.L.,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
The Knickerbockers,
Little Man,
Masters at Work,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
The New Christs,
Second Layer,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The J.B.'s,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
Audionom,
The Techniques,
Derrick Morgan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Henry Cow,
MDC,
Clear Light,
Motorama,
Slave,
Malaria!,
Agitation Free,
Ronnie Foster,
Flipper,
Marc Almond,
Suburban Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABBA,
Television Personalities,
KRS-One,
Cybotron,
Dark Day,
Quando Quango,
Nirvana,
The Raincoats,
Yusef Lateef,
Tommy Roe,
Eden Ahbez,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Birthday Party,
Von Mondo,
Sixth Finger,
Gong,
Lou Christie,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.