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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Monks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
X-101,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Almond,
The Gories,
Deakin,
Shoche,
Moss Icon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joyce Sims,
Talk Talk,
Drexciya,
Los Fastidios,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Peter and Kerry,
Ronnie Foster,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stiv Bators,
Soulsonic Force,
The Searchers,
Hoover,
The Golliwogs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Stooges,
H. Thieme,
Bang On A Can,
The American Breed,
The United States of America,
Dead Boys,
Bobby Womack,
E-Dancer,
Desert Stars,
Fatback Band,
Dark Day,
Minnie Riperton,
Vainqueur,
The Buckinghams,
Mark Hollis,
Brand Nubian,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
Crime,
Lower 48,
Rites of Spring,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Bananas,
Soul II Soul,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joensuu 1685,
Soft Cell,
Davy DMX,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus,
Maleditus Sound,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.