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 Nepal 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Radio Birdman to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Beau Brummels,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Evens,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The American Breed,
Second Layer,
Symarip,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
Fluxion,
Y Pants,
Camberwell Now,
The Searchers,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Real Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fela Kuti,
Mission of Burma,
Accadde A,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Barracudas,
Mars,
The Seeds,
The Wake,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Smog,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Boredoms,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moby Grape,
Derrick May,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nico,
Eve St. Jones,
Scratch Acid,
Lungfish,
CMW,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.