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 Sweden and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 The Young Rascals to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Fela Kuti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
The Trojans,
Crime,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barrington Levy,
Grey Daturas,
The Slits,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Q65,
The Monks,
Ken Boothe,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
the Normal,
Bad Manners,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vladislav Delay,
Average White Band,
B.T. Express,
The Flesh Eaters,
Henry Cow,
Chris Corsano,
Erykah Badu,
The Blues Magoos,
Moss Icon,
Faraquet,
Gichy Dan,
Eurythmics,
Al Stewart,
DJ Sneak,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Soul Sonic Force,
Schoolly D,
Pylon,
Nico,
Lyres,
Con Funk Shun,
Ossler,
Marvin Gaye,
Altered Images,
Throbbing Gristle,
Desert Stars,
Parry Music,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
Ronan,
Angry Samoans,
Cluster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
PIL,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.