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 Zimbabwe and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 F. McDonald to the grime 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Derrick May,
David Axelrod,
Connie Case,
Barry Ungar,
Max Romeo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Livin' Joy,
Mars,
EPMD,
U.S. Maple,
Fatback Band,
Groovy Waters,
10cc,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Silicon Teens,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Searchers,
Cal Tjader,
Dennis Brown,
Radiohead,
The Real Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Severed Heads,
La Düsseldorf,
Barbara Tucker,
Lightning Bolt,
Joy Division,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joey Negro,
Neil Young,
Kenny Larkin,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Normal,
The Cure,
Skriet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Barracudas,
Bang On A Can,
Roger Hodgson,
Wally Richardson,
E-Dancer,
Toni Rubio,
Eli Mardock,
Freddie Wadling,
Faust,
The Victims,
Hasil Adkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Essential Logic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Moebius,
Soft Cell,
Chris & Cosey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.