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 Tuvalu and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Gladiators to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bill Near,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barry Ungar,
Sam Rivers,
Crooked Eye,
Nico,
The Vogues,
Essential Logic,
Tears for Fears,
Alice Coltrane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Infiniti,
Tim Buckley,
Deakin,
Steve Hackett,
Lower 48,
Lalann,
Bobby Sherman,
Nas,
Derrick Morgan,
Nik Kershaw,
UT,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
The Busters,
Depeche Mode,
Intrusion,
Q65,
Banda Bassotti,
a-ha,
The Fugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Spandau Ballet,
Delta 5,
Scion,
Hashim,
The Tremeloes,
The Evens,
Basic Channel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Underground Resistance,
The Smiths,
The Happenings,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
David Axelrod,
Bob Dylan,
Michelle Simonal,
Negative Approach,
Masters at Work,
Gong,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slave,
The Durutti Column,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.