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 Mexico and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Los Fastidios to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Outsiders,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eurythmics,
Tom Boy,
Faraquet,
Byron Stingily,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
T.S.O.L.,
Cybotron,
Nick Fraelich,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blancmange,
the Swans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spandau Ballet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Skarface,
The Knickerbockers,
Cameo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tommy Roe,
JFA,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Flesh Eaters,
Talk Talk,
Quadrant,
Dennis Brown,
Circle Jerks,
Iggy Pop,
The Dead C,
The Moody Blues,
Monks,
Andrew Hill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pylon,
Rekid,
Ohio Players,
ABC,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Sherman,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Tubeway Army,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultra Naté,
H. Thieme,
The Electric Prunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Zeros,
Q and Not U,
The Fortunes,
Deadbeat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Green,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.