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 Cyprus and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Glenn Branca,
The Toasters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
Flipper,
Lightning Bolt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
The Residents,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Fat Boys,
JFA,
The Move,
Neu!,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Little Man,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blancmange,
Main Source,
Radiohead,
Fela Kuti,
Susan Cadogan,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
The Offenders,
Arcadia,
Harmonia,
Cameo,
Desert Stars,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
The Busters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
June of 44,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moebius,
John Foxx,
Steve Hackett,
Stiv Bators,
Magazine,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.