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 Equatorial Guinea and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Kinks to the crunk 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Fatback Band,
The Move,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shuggie Otis,
Qualms,
Junior Murvin,
Rakim,
Black Moon,
The Gories,
the Slits,
Panda Bear,
Scientists,
Alton Ellis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nas,
Magma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Y Pants,
Livin' Joy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liliput,
U.S. Maple,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marmalade,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
the Germs,
The Fall,
Bill Near,
Sam Rivers,
Thompson Twins,
The Doors,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Juan Atkins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
Bush Tetras,
Henry Cow,
Whodini,
The Trojans,
Davy DMX,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Wyatt,
Loose Ends,
Todd Rundgren,
OOIOO,
Tim Buckley,
Mars,
Adolescents,
The Offenders,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.