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 Bhutan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the jazz 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Almond,
Donny Hathaway,
Masters at Work,
The Motions,
Fear,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monochrome Set,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Selecter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
In Retrospect,
Blancmange,
Mars,
OOIOO,
The Martian,
Khruangbin,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Black Dice,
F. McDonald,
Liliput,
Connie Case,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cymande,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Trumans Water,
Ultravox,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
A Certain Ratio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yusef Lateef,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Zeros,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
John Foxx,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joey Negro,
The Young Rascals,
The Durutti Column,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.