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 China and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Last Poets to the grunge 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Stereo Dub,
Skriet,
Warsaw,
Connie Case,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fortunes,
Patti Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Howard Jones,
Graham Central Station,
Technova,
Eurythmics,
Con Funk Shun,
Moss Icon,
Supertramp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
EPMD,
Skarface,
Black Pus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sandy B,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bootsy Collins,
Section 25,
Boredoms,
the Slits,
Bush Tetras,
Mr. Review,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
X-101,
Ornette Coleman,
Isaac Hayes,
Adolescents,
Deadbeat,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moby Grape,
Depeche Mode,
Livin' Joy,
Grey Daturas,
Yusef Lateef,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
Japan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amon Düül,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
Hot Snakes,
Motorama,
Alphaville,
Lalo Schifrin,
H. Thieme,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.