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 Brunei and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 United States of America,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
DJ Style,
Fluxion,
Judy Mowatt,
Das Ding,
Henry Cow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Television,
ABC,
Althea and Donna,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Lakeside,
Minny Pops,
Talk Talk,
Japan,
John Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
These Immortal Souls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magma,
Dark Day,
The Stooges,
Rod Modell,
Gang Starr,
Royal Trux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pantytec,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Popol Vuh,
Frankie Knuckles,
Babytalk,
Robert Hood,
Desert Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Yazoo,
PIL,
Black Pus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mad Mike,
Jerry's Kids,
Dave Gahan,
Pere Ubu,
Barrington Levy,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tubeway Army,
Max Romeo,
Piero Umiliani,
The Grass Roots,
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radio Birdman,
Peter & Gordon,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.