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 Finland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Franke to the crunk 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Cheater Slicks,
The Blues Magoos,
Popol Vuh,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Visage,
Lou Christie,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alphaville,
The Sound,
Schoolly D,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Flesh Eaters,
The New Christs,
The Motions,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ponytail,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Normal,
Hashim,
The Offenders,
Bluetip,
Anakelly,
Silicon Teens,
Man Parrish,
Kayak,
Deakin,
Altered Images,
Can,
Second Layer,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brass Construction,
Unwound,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Sonics,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang On A Can,
The Litter,
Ludus,
Porter Ricks,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pop Group,
The Detroit Cobras,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
Echospace,
Yellowson,
Alton Ellis,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Misunderstood,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roger Hodgson,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.