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 Barbados and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Simply Red to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Durutti Column,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sällskapet,
Funky Four + One,
Freddie Wadling,
Electric Prunes,
The Young Rascals,
The United States of America,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New York Dolls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jandek,
Juan Atkins,
Vladislav Delay,
JFA,
Sound Behaviour,
Minor Threat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Youth Brigade,
Hardrive,
the Swans,
Bronski Beat,
John Foxx,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
Mars,
Sixth Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Circle Jerks,
Yaz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hasil Adkins,
Iggy Pop,
Depeche Mode,
Oneida,
Boz Scaggs,
Maleditus Sound,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
the Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Cale,
Television,
Flipper,
Letta Mbulu,
B.T. Express,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.