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 Armenia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Buzzcocks to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Silicon Teens,
Mars,
FM Einheit,
The Gun Club,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sandy B,
The Offenders,
Jeff Mills,
The Doors,
Heaven 17,
Rakim,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zapp,
Gabor Szabo,
Qualms,
Sarah Menescal,
Excepter,
T. Rex,
New Order,
Avey Tare,
Pere Ubu,
the Normal,
Eden Ahbez,
The Durutti Column,
Agent Orange,
Janne Schatter,
Sister Nancy,
Deadbeat,
Depeche Mode,
The Angels of Light,
Slick Rick,
Q and Not U,
Tommy Roe,
Stockholm Monsters,
MC5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
Clear Light,
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neil Young,
Animal Collective,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Altered Images,
Donald Byrd,
LL Cool J,
Hardrive,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masters at Work,
Outsiders,
Roger Hodgson,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.