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 New Zealand and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cheater Slicks to the electroclash 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Music Machine,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chris Corsano,
U.S. Maple,
Motorama,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agent Orange,
Al Stewart,
Kayak,
The Busters,
Camouflage,
Grauzone,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Victims,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
Jeff Lynne,
Josef K,
Man Parrish,
The Sonics,
Moby Grape,
The Pretty Things,
Minnie Riperton,
The Young Rascals,
KRS-One,
Infiniti,
Babytalk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Goldenarms,
Magma,
Clear Light,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantytec,
Public Enemy,
Gang of Four,
Scrapy,
The Buckinghams,
The Real Kids,
Television,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
Qualms,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
The Leaves,
Maleditus Sound,
Franke,
New Age Steppers,
Vainqueur,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Cluster,
Aural Exciters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Glenn Branca,
Brothers Johnson,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.