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 Samoa and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Underground Resistance to the funk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola 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?
Adolescents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
A Certain Ratio,
Vladislav Delay,
The Count Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oblivians,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultravox,
Siglo XX,
John Holt,
Neil Young,
the Normal,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nirvana,
Moss Icon,
Derrick Morgan,
John Foxx,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Sneak,
The Raincoats,
The Velvet Underground,
Amon Düül II,
Joey Negro,
The Misunderstood,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun City Girls,
PIL,
The Modern Lovers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eddi Front,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mummies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Desert Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joe Finger,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Standells,
Matthew Halsall,
Con Funk Shun,
Morten Harket,
The Associates,
Man Eating Sloth,
Absolute Body Control,
Suicide,
Albert Ayler,
Fad Gadget,
This Heat,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.