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 Nepal and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fugs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
Mr. Review,
Brass Construction,
The J.B.'s,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
Neil Young,
Half Japanese,
Bronski Beat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aswad,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxette,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
JFA,
Buzzcocks,
Gichy Dan,
K-Klass,
the Bar-Kays,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Popol Vuh,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
The United States of America,
Funky Four + One,
L. Decosne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Slackers,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Zeros,
Zero Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Move,
Man Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Pharoah Sanders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blake Baxter,
The Vogues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ornette Coleman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Womack,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Main Source,
Susan Cadogan,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.