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 Vietnam and from Spokane.
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 Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar 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 Al Stewart to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Wings,
The Sonics,
Monks,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Funkadelic,
The Moody Blues,
In Retrospect,
Con Funk Shun,
Duran Duran,
Anakelly,
the Slits,
Danielle Patucci,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Walker Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doors,
John Lydon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott Heron,
X-101,
Joy Division,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
The Divine Comedy,
Ornette Coleman,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
Marmalade,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Grass Roots,
The Slackers,
Lyres,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Suicide,
Sugar Minott,
Lindisfarne,
Mission of Burma,
Franke,
Yaz,
Scan 7,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Whodini,
Freddie Wadling,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Slick Rick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Saints,
R.M.O.,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.