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 Laos and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Camberwell Now 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Silicon Teens,
Danielle Patucci,
Aural Exciters,
Alton Ellis,
Unwound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Victims,
Eric B and Rakim,
Supertramp,
Pierre Henry,
Hardrive,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sam Rivers,
Public Enemy,
One Last Wish,
Thee Headcoats,
Stiv Bators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
the Human League,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
Circle Jerks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Zero Boys,
the Soft Cell,
Outsiders,
The Fuzztones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Associates,
The Birthday Party,
Fela Kuti,
The Seeds,
10cc,
Popol Vuh,
Inner City,
Anakelly,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alice Coltrane,
Au Pairs,
David Axelrod,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gories,
Amon Düül,
New Age Steppers,
Crooked Eye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scion,
Aswad,
Chrome,
This Heat,
Tubeway Army,
Freddie Wadling,
Ponytail,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gichy Dan,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.