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 Nigeria and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Jimmy McGriff to the rock 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 The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ice-T,
Pole,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Los Fastidios,
Black Bananas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
Soul Sonic Force,
Depeche Mode,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Gichy Dan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Goldenarms,
Kerri Chandler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
H. Thieme,
Smog,
the Swans,
Metal Thangz,
The Durutti Column,
The Buckinghams,
Swell Maps,
New York Dolls,
The Moleskins,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
Arthur Verocai,
Japan,
Darondo,
Todd Terry,
Aural Exciters,
Delta 5,
The Kinks,
Grauzone,
Rod Modell,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Divine Comedy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scan 7,
James Chance & The Contortions,
L. Decosne,
Sandy B,
Tears for Fears,
LL Cool J,
Neil Young,
The Happenings,
Faraquet,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.