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 Latvia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Janne Schatter to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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?
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Magma,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pussy Galore,
Cheater Slicks,
Unrelated Segments,
Traffic Nightmare,
L. Decosne,
Banda Bassotti,
Audionom,
Johnny Clarke,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Human League,
Skriet,
Royal Trux,
Black Pus,
Eden Ahbez,
Scientists,
Infiniti,
Marmalade,
Organ,
Crash Course in Science,
T.S.O.L.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
The Residents,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Swans,
Bobby Sherman,
The Victims,
Jeff Lynne,
June of 44,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
Bill Near,
Ice-T,
MDC,
The Barracudas,
Aloha Tigers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Byrd,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Max Romeo,
The Real Kids,
The Martian,
Lou Reed,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
kango's stein massive,
the Slits,
The Selecter,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABBA,
Stereo Dub,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.