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 Solomon Islands and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord 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 Suburban Knight to the techno 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Womack,
Chrome,
Liliput,
Joy Division,
Accadde A,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mantronix,
The Gap Band,
The Saints,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Red Krayola,
The Skatalites,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Zeros,
Hot Snakes,
Aural Exciters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ludus,
Nick Fraelich,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neu!,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
Arab on Radar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sam Rivers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dawn Penn,
Pierre Henry,
Camberwell Now,
Tres Demented,
U.S. Maple,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oblivians,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Althea and Donna,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
L. Decosne,
The New Christs,
Black Bananas,
Index,
Black Pus,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
Stereo Dub,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Erykah Badu,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.