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 Gambia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Young Marble Giants to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon 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?
10cc,
Jacques Brel,
Man Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker,
Arthur Verocai,
the Normal,
Minor Threat,
John Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Dual Sessions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Victims,
Angry Samoans,
Negative Approach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nik Kershaw,
Warren Ellis,
Second Layer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun City Girls,
Roxy Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
Gregory Isaacs,
David Axelrod,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Reagan Youth,
Connie Case,
Sound Behaviour,
Young Marble Giants,
Radio Birdman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rapeman,
Black Sheep,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rekid,
Grauzone,
Gang Gang Dance,
Symarip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Buzzcocks,
Outsiders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Moleskins,
Royal Trux,
E-Dancer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Electric Prunes,
Pantytec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ten City,
The Kinks,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
Hashim,
Hardrive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.