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 Macedonia and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Lungfish to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Tears for Fears,
Mandrill,
The Neon Judgement,
Los Fastidios,
The Slackers,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers,
Black Sheep,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Metal Thangz,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
The Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
Ronan,
Steve Hackett,
The Angels of Light,
R.M.O.,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
Swans,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Qualms,
Sun Ra,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Das Ding,
Livin' Joy,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Flipper,
June of 44,
Youth Brigade,
Donald Byrd,
Al Stewart,
The Slits,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dark Day,
Animal Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stiv Bators,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
The Wake,
The Young Rascals,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Godley & Creme,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.