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 Vanuatu and from Lyon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Q65,
Sex Pistols,
Lalann,
Ituana,
The Happenings,
Bobby Sherman,
Mark Hollis,
The Walker Brothers,
Fat Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Blossom Toes,
Black Flag,
The Beau Brummels,
Nik Kershaw,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
World's Most,
The Leaves,
The J.B.'s,
The Velvet Underground,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Kenny Larkin,
Faust,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barrington Levy,
Agitation Free,
The Motions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Los Fastidios,
Q and Not U,
The Five Americans,
Nico,
Bob Dylan,
Faraquet,
Graham Central Station,
the Sonics,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mars,
The Monochrome Set,
Bush Tetras,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
The Modern Lovers,
Absolute Body Control,
Prince Buster,
Rekid,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
The Flesh Eaters,
Magazine,
OOIOO,
Qualms,
The Gories,
Underground Resistance,
The Techniques,
Terry Callier,
Jesper Dahlback,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.