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 Sierra Leone and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Modern Lovers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front 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?
Matthew Halsall,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dead Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
Cluster,
Barrington Levy,
Make Up,
a-ha,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Doors,
The Move,
Wolf Eyes,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skarface,
Depeche Mode,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
Arcadia,
Accadde A,
The Young Rascals,
OOIOO,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scan 7,
Mantronix,
Don Cherry,
The Litter,
The Skatalites,
The Angels of Light,
cv313,
Youth Brigade,
Lyres,
The Last Poets,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hoover,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Christie,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Sex Pistols,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Das Ding,
Judy Mowatt,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Camberwell Now,
The Pop Group,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Underground Resistance,
John Coltrane,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.