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 Peru and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Laurel Aitken to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Inner City,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
This Heat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stiv Bators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alphaville,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
Grey Daturas,
Fela Kuti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pagans,
Hot Snakes,
Steve Hackett,
World's Most,
The Birthday Party,
Ralphi Rosario,
Organ,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sällskapet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cramps,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang On A Can,
KRS-One,
The Zeros,
Harpers Bizarre,
Au Pairs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The New Christs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smiths,
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
JFA,
Tres Demented,
Sister Nancy,
The Associates,
UT,
The Names,
Chris Corsano,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Sound,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ponytail,
Howard Jones,
Marmalade,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.