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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Easy Going to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Icehouse,
John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
The Angels of Light,
Sun Ra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Little Man,
Scott Walker,
Bluetip,
Heaven 17,
Nik Kershaw,
Quando Quango,
Crispy Ambulance,
T.S.O.L.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Don Cherry,
Accadde A,
Godley & Creme,
the Swans,
Colin Newman,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
Agitation Free,
The Doors,
Essential Logic,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moleskins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swell Maps,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Electric Prunes,
Grauzone,
Pantytec,
Cybotron,
CMW,
Angry Samoans,
The Skatalites,
Pere Ubu,
Maurizio,
Bang On A Can,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Pus,
The Five Americans,
the Bar-Kays,
Idris Muhammad,
Severed Heads,
The Gap Band,
The Invisible,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.