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 Cyprus and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wolf Eyes 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Black Bananas,
The Busters,
Unwound,
Duran Duran,
Yaz,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monochrome Set,
Au Pairs,
Motorama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Donald Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
The Neon Judgement,
Rekid,
Smog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fugazi,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reagan Youth,
Quadrant,
Spoonie Gee,
Marmalade,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terry Callier,
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
Qualms,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
OOIOO,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Das Ding,
Silicon Teens,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Almond,
Supertramp,
The Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
The Happenings,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.