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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Royal Trux to the crunk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare,
Soul II Soul,
Stetsasonic,
Heaven 17,
Maurizio,
Toni Rubio,
Graham Central Station,
The Dave Clark Five,
Camberwell Now,
The Cure,
Television,
Rosa Yemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bluetip,
The Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Outsiders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Age Steppers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bob Dylan,
The Grass Roots,
a-ha,
Alison Limerick,
Althea and Donna,
Agent Orange,
Sun City Girls,
X-102,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Barbara Tucker,
Fela Kuti,
Intrusion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Finger,
Radio Birdman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cal Tjader,
Joyce Sims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Inner City,
Howard Jones,
Tomorrow,
Spoonie Gee,
Ludus,
Thompson Twins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Urselle,
Hashim,
Deepchord,
The Kinks,
T.S.O.L.,
Marc Almond,
Yazoo,
The Skatalites,
Moby Grape,
Judy Mowatt,
the Normal,
The Gun Club,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.