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 Paraguay and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Stetsasonic to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Vogues,
OOIOO,
Steve Hackett,
Hoover,
Scion,
Camouflage,
Dual Sessions,
The Smiths,
Amazonics,
The Cowsills,
Anthony Braxton,
Prince Buster,
Malaria!,
Sonic Youth,
Dennis Brown,
The Searchers,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
Bill Near,
Desert Stars,
Crime,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Enemy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deadbeat,
Pulsallama,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
FM Einheit,
The New Christs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Five Americans,
Gichy Dan,
Magma,
Kerri Chandler,
Minutemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Kinks,
Ronan,
Roxette,
The Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Warsaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aural Exciters,
Little Man,
Neil Young,
This Heat,
The Modern Lovers,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
These Immortal Souls,
Lindisfarne,
Albert Ayler,
The Young Rascals,
The Saints,
Public Image Ltd.,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.