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 Israel and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Reuben Wilson,
Porter Ricks,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Clear Light,
Brick,
The Stooges,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
Colin Newman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Icehouse,
Severed Heads,
Deakin,
The New Christs,
La Düsseldorf,
Technova,
Sexual Harrassment,
Depeche Mode,
The Velvet Underground,
Subhumans,
Morten Harket,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
Tommy Roe,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yaz,
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Tom Boy,
Newcleus,
Byron Stingily,
Infiniti,
Mantronix,
Magazine,
Desert Stars,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moleskins,
Eddi Front,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare,
Nick Fraelich,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
Nico,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.