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 Malawi and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 Laurel Aitken to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Aswad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Urselle,
Metal Thangz,
Hot Snakes,
The Barracudas,
Ken Boothe,
Panda Bear,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
The Knickerbockers,
Saccharine Trust,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Delon & Dalcan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
Faust,
Quando Quango,
Kool Moe Dee,
Tim Buckley,
Little Man,
Organ,
Boredoms,
Bluetip,
X-Ray Spex,
Godley & Creme,
Monolake,
Janne Schatter,
The Sound,
Siglo XX,
Trumans Water,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cure,
The Mojo Men,
Lungfish,
Dawn Penn,
Minnie Riperton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Von Mondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang Green,
Soul Sonic Force,
Vainqueur,
Hashim,
Blancmange,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nick Fraelich,
Arab on Radar,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Techniques,
Sound Behaviour,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.