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 Vanuatu and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Stiv Bators to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Pylon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oblivians,
Althea and Donna,
Bad Manners,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soft Cell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Technova,
Chrome,
Ten City,
Dawn Penn,
Roger Hodgson,
DJ Style,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Interpol,
L. Decosne,
The Fugs,
Lucky Dragons,
The Seeds,
Shuggie Otis,
Reagan Youth,
The Golliwogs,
Maurizio,
Johnny Osbourne,
Royal Trux,
Tommy Roe,
Tres Demented,
Charles Mingus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Lynne,
Rapeman,
Mad Mike,
The Fortunes,
Fluxion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Tim Buckley,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Association,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sister Nancy,
The Moody Blues,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
The Electric Prunes,
OOIOO,
Pantytec,
Buzzcocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minor Threat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Judy Mowatt,
EPMD,
Pantaleimon,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.