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 Serbia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Todd Rundgren to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
Juan Atkins,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liliput,
The Index,
Faust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
a-ha,
Sparks,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
Swell Maps,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Don Cherry,
The Black Dice,
Marvin Gaye,
These Immortal Souls,
The Seeds,
Thompson Twins,
Colin Newman,
The Count Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Grass Roots,
Audionom,
the Bar-Kays,
Barrington Levy,
Intrusion,
the Sonics,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dennis Brown,
Bad Manners,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeff Mills,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
T. Rex,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy Collins,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gap Band,
Hoover,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fortunes,
the Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.