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 San Marino and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Idris Muhammad to the techno 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Byron Stingily,
Echospace,
The Saints,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
Vladislav Delay,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
The Barracudas,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Chris & Cosey,
Main Source,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Reuben Wilson,
Don Cherry,
Icehouse,
Joey Negro,
The Martian,
MC5,
The Grass Roots,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Das Ding,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Anakelly,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
Intrusion,
Cheater Slicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pierre Henry,
Reagan Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Henry Cow,
Isaac Hayes,
UT,
Skriet,
Popol Vuh,
Porter Ricks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blossom Toes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
John Cale,
Khruangbin,
Television,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Move,
Sarah Menescal,
The Last Poets,
Crash Course in Science,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dirtbombs,
Siglo XX,
Hashim,
JFA,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.