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 Sri Lanka and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Excepter,
Brick,
Sparks,
Technova,
Ohio Players,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Pretty Things,
The Cowsills,
Mad Mike,
UT,
Gichy Dan,
Interpol,
Magma,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suburban Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blancmange,
The Music Machine,
Roxy Music,
Crooked Eye,
Archie Shepp,
Dark Day,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jerry's Kids,
Fluxion,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Alison Limerick,
Thompson Twins,
Motorama,
Khruangbin,
Fela Kuti,
The Saints,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Görl,
Alice Coltrane,
A Certain Ratio,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Sugar Minott,
The Blues Magoos,
Monolake,
The Cure,
Theoretical Girls,
Yazoo,
Laurel Aitken,
China Crisis,
Newcleus,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quadrant,
The Modern Lovers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Oneida,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.