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 Albania 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Holger Czukay 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 Vainqueur to the jazz 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Eddi Front,
Bob Dylan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Suburban Knight,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Average White Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Roxy Music,
Ituana,
Scientists,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Birthday Party,
Radiohead,
James White and The Blacks,
Magma,
Babytalk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oneida,
Guru Guru,
The Skatalites,
Howard Jones,
Yazoo,
Loose Ends,
The Monks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gong,
Tommy Roe,
Mo-Dettes,
The Black Dice,
The Gun Club,
The Durutti Column,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
These Immortal Souls,
Motorama,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Count Five,
Lalann,
Animal Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Minutemen,
Bang On A Can,
Boz Scaggs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Y Pants,
Moby Grape,
Jacob Miller,
Massinfluence,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
Godley & Creme,
Heaven 17,
John Lydon,
H. Thieme,
Franke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Blackbyrds,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.