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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
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 harpsichord 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
the Swans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Letta Mbulu,
The Blues Magoos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
Jerry's Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
Symarip,
Aloha Tigers,
Minor Threat,
The Red Krayola,
Ten City,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Rekid,
Unwound,
Outsiders,
These Immortal Souls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ken Boothe,
Donny Hathaway,
Circle Jerks,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Donald Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonic Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Black Pus,
Supertramp,
The Fuzztones,
This Heat,
Bill Near,
Funkadelic,
Depeche Mode,
Minny Pops,
Mr. Review,
Popol Vuh,
Cecil Taylor,
Eddi Front,
Lyres,
Hashim,
The Star Department,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick May,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Japan,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Public Enemy,
Sällskapet,
Agitation Free,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.