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 Congo and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Mark Hollis to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Christie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Angels of Light,
David McCallum,
Fela Kuti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Excepter,
Todd Rundgren,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barry Ungar,
Eric Copeland,
Pet Shop Boys,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Althea and Donna,
Audionom,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Style,
Soulsonic Force,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Sneak,
ABBA,
Magazine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nik Kershaw,
Erasure,
The Neon Judgement,
Flash Fearless,
Zero Boys,
The Searchers,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lyres,
Judy Mowatt,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare,
Popol Vuh,
Scion,
Pantytec,
Agent Orange,
Joensuu 1685,
Little Man,
Joe Smooth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Monks,
Jerry's Kids,
Desert Stars,
Moss Icon,
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
Hoover,
Underground Resistance,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aswad,
Henry Cow,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.