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 Madagascar and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 Roger Hodgson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
Intrusion,
The Victims,
FM Einheit,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slackers,
The Angels of Light,
Fat Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
June of 44,
Mr. Review,
Black Pus,
Sun Ra,
Roger Hodgson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
Iggy Pop,
Judy Mowatt,
Jandek,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Germs,
Scott Walker,
Inner City,
The Birthday Party,
Rotary Connection,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Womack,
Goldenarms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
Suburban Knight,
Camberwell Now,
the Swans,
The Skatalites,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mission of Burma,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cure,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Niagra,
Fad Gadget,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sam Rivers,
Cybotron,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Section 25,
Young Marble Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cowsills,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.