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 Botswana and from Philadelphia.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ten City to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Eric Dolphy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gabor Szabo,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Machine,
H. Thieme,
Blake Baxter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deakin,
Negative Approach,
Dennis Brown,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
CMW,
Henry Cow,
Nils Olav,
Camouflage,
Freddie Wadling,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
Stereo Dub,
The Five Americans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
48th St. Collective,
Camberwell Now,
Maleditus Sound,
Skriet,
Interpol,
The Martian,
Television,
Black Sheep,
Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
The Dirtbombs,
Model 500,
The Durutti Column,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Can,
Pagans,
Alison Limerick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Toni Rubio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
Bootsy Collins,
The J.B.'s,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
kango's stein massive,
Mandrill,
Groovy Waters,
Motorama,
Nas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.