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 Afghanistan and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Moon to the disco 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Unwound,
Iggy Pop,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
The Mojo Men,
The Real Kids,
OOIOO,
Angry Samoans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rod Modell,
Magazine,
Rapeman,
Chrome,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Procol Harum,
The Cure,
Absolute Body Control,
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oblivians,
R.M.O.,
Brick,
Jeff Lynne,
Connie Case,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Goldenarms,
Ronan,
Sugar Minott,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Television,
Gong,
Fad Gadget,
Echospace,
Quando Quango,
The Victims,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stiv Bators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cheater Slicks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Music Machine,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
Altered Images,
Banda Bassotti,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cramps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Terry,
Sex Pistols,
Flipper,
Parry Music,
The Monochrome Set,
The Motions,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.