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 United States and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer 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 Jerry's Kids to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish 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?
Unwound,
Sparks,
Jawbox,
T.S.O.L.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Altered Images,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalann,
David Bowie,
Faraquet,
Section 25,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lee Hazlewood,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Technova,
The Cure,
Supertramp,
Ossler,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
the Soft Cell,
Theoretical Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The Martian,
This Heat,
Boz Scaggs,
Yazoo,
Pierre Henry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vladislav Delay,
La Düsseldorf,
Maurizio,
Kurtis Blow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends,
Index,
Visage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Rundgren,
Eric Copeland,
Sight & Sound,
Moby Grape,
Spoonie Gee,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-101,
Kevin Saunderson,
Malaria!,
Silicon Teens,
Hashim,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Bad Manners,
Icehouse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.