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 Tunisia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco 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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Kayak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
Desert Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Royal Trux,
Rod Modell,
Second Layer,
Magma,
Bobby Womack,
Mission of Burma,
The Neon Judgement,
Model 500,
Davy DMX,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
The J.B.'s,
Tim Buckley,
Delta 5,
Surgeon,
June Days,
The Doors,
Half Japanese,
Spoonie Gee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson,
Kas Product,
ABC,
Talk Talk,
The Blues Magoos,
Easy Going,
Silicon Teens,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
EPMD,
Aaron Thompson,
Mantronix,
The Kinks,
Steve Hackett,
Toni Rubio,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
Massinfluence,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter and Kerry,
Nick Fraelich,
the Association,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Moby Grape,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fat Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.