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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Main Source to the punk 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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
Kayak,
The Beau Brummels,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Radio Birdman,
Agent Orange,
Gang Green,
Laurel Aitken,
Pierre Henry,
Heaven 17,
Loose Ends,
Guru Guru,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
Tommy Roe,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Skatalites,
Faust,
The Pop Group,
Marvin Gaye,
Graham Central Station,
Spandau Ballet,
Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
The Blackbyrds,
Lungfish,
Ronnie Foster,
Easy Going,
Steve Hackett,
Eden Ahbez,
Joey Negro,
Motorama,
Kurtis Blow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bob Dylan,
a-ha,
Anthony Braxton,
The Motions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-Ray Spex,
Rufus Thomas,
Blake Baxter,
Eurythmics,
The American Breed,
Shuggie Otis,
AZ,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smiths,
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Mills,
Scrapy,
Mars,
Jandek,
Minutemen,
The Fuzztones,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.