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 Guyana and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sarah Menescal to the dance 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moby Grape,
Nation of Ulysses,
Symarip,
Pagans,
Ten City,
the Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jerry's Kids,
Piero Umiliani,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Bluetip,
Pulsallama,
Desert Stars,
Porter Ricks,
The Star Department,
Hoover,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Maleditus Sound,
The Monks,
Rites of Spring,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
Matthew Bourne,
The Modern Lovers,
Main Source,
Youth Brigade,
Nico,
Bill Near,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Lalo Schifrin,
ABBA,
Michelle Simonal,
Al Stewart,
Tim Buckley,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
June Days,
The Moleskins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lyres,
Frankie Knuckles,
Franke,
DJ Sneak,
Mars,
JFA,
Man Parrish,
John Cale,
Khruangbin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Goldenarms,
Ituana,
Fugazi,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.