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 Iraq and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Joy Division to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
B.T. Express,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rufus Thomas,
cv313,
The Sound,
Maurizio,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Sneak,
Basic Channel,
Lucky Dragons,
Eurythmics,
Oneida,
Sonny Sharrock,
Infiniti,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Radio Birdman,
the Normal,
Duran Duran,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
This Heat,
Joe Smooth,
Sound Behaviour,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Visage,
The Gun Club,
Newcleus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Susan Cadogan,
Funky Four + One,
The Offenders,
Sparks,
Das Ding,
Bob Dylan,
Barry Ungar,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Doors,
Todd Terry,
Gang Starr,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
A Certain Ratio,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unrelated Segments,
Aloha Tigers,
Skarface,
the Bar-Kays,
Pylon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minutemen,
The Young Rascals,
the Slits,
The Invisible,
The Martian,
The Gladiators,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Icehouse,
Brand Nubian,
Cecil Taylor,
Vainqueur,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.