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 Laos and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron 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 Q65 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
Terry Callier,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Al Stewart,
The Knickerbockers,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Harry Pussy,
Moss Icon,
John Cale,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Main Source,
Kayak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
H. Thieme,
The Dirtbombs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Loose Ends,
Fatback Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Marshall Jefferson,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Christie,
Grandmaster Flash,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The United States of America,
The Velvet Underground,
Public Enemy,
Piero Umiliani,
Nik Kershaw,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter & Gordon,
Soul II Soul,
Sam Rivers,
The Raincoats,
the Slits,
The Move,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Unwound,
Bootsy Collins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sight & Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
Eddi Front,
Janne Schatter,
Ponytail,
Shuggie Otis,
Juan Atkins,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.