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 Korea South and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Infiniti to the techno 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Simply Red,
The Count Five,
Amon Düül,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
The Knickerbockers,
Scion,
Roxy Music,
Bad Manners,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fatback Band,
Ludus,
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sam Rivers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Malaria!,
The Dead C,
DNA,
the Swans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ituana,
Nico,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tommy Roe,
Mandrill,
Mission of Burma,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy,
Camouflage,
Ronnie Foster,
Joensuu 1685,
The Grass Roots,
Talk Talk,
The Walker Brothers,
New Order,
The Cure,
Maleditus Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Max Romeo,
Arcadia,
Black Flag,
Colin Newman,
The Modern Lovers,
Popol Vuh,
Pulsallama,
Wolf Eyes,
Tears for Fears,
Main Source,
Babytalk,
The Residents,
ABBA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.