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 Peru and from Cairo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wasted Youth to the funk 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Simply Red,
Shoche,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angry Samoans,
Pylon,
One Last Wish,
ABBA,
Sandy B,
Pierre Henry,
The Gun Club,
LL Cool J,
Minor Threat,
Brick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Groovy Waters,
The Fall,
Michelle Simonal,
Das Ding,
Glenn Branca,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minnie Riperton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Trumans Water,
Monolake,
The Busters,
Scan 7,
Adolescents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Youth Brigade,
Pere Ubu,
The Offenders,
Roxette,
Altered Images,
The Gories,
Kaleidoscope,
Masters at Work,
The Birthday Party,
Maurizio,
Eli Mardock,
Cymande,
Model 500,
Carl Craig,
AZ,
Skarface,
Bill Near,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure,
The Selecter,
Cybotron,
Minny Pops,
Dennis Brown,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Slackers,
Ohio Players,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.