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 Bolivia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 The Sonics to the punk 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Babytalk,
Piero Umiliani,
Mad Mike,
Loose Ends,
Sugar Minott,
Kerri Chandler,
Nas,
Marmalade,
The Red Krayola,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
Mantronix,
Qualms,
Amazonics,
Roxette,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roger Hodgson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang of Four,
Kas Product,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Searchers,
Chris & Cosey,
Interpol,
Fatback Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ken Boothe,
the Normal,
Donny Hathaway,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
Bluetip,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Almond,
Grey Daturas,
Sällskapet,
Janne Schatter,
Model 500,
The Neon Judgement,
The Misunderstood,
Arab on Radar,
Sparks,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Black Moon,
The Vogues,
Thompson Twins,
The Moody Blues,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Axelrod,
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Lynne,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
the Bar-Kays,
The Leaves,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.