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 Tuvalu and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Human League to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
FM Einheit,
Audionom,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Morten Harket,
The Moody Blues,
DNA,
Matthew Halsall,
Gichy Dan,
The Zeros,
Bootsy Collins,
The J.B.'s,
This Heat,
Albert Ayler,
The Offenders,
The Red Krayola,
Neu!,
Severed Heads,
Fad Gadget,
Alton Ellis,
Stereo Dub,
Radiohead,
Bobby Byrd,
T. Rex,
David Bowie,
The Toasters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Spoonie Gee,
Howard Jones,
Marmalade,
Lungfish,
LL Cool J,
Desert Stars,
Rod Modell,
the Human League,
Eric Dolphy,
Mad Mike,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Index,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
Lalann,
Absolute Body Control,
Livin' Joy,
Agent Orange,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deepchord,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Byron Stingily,
Quantec,
Eurythmics,
The Names,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.