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 Kyrgyzstan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Alphaville to the punk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Clear Light,
The Buckinghams,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Evens,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
Soul II Soul,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
CMW,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
T. Rex,
Soul Sonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
Camouflage,
Japan,
Swell Maps,
Todd Rundgren,
Dawn Penn,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Bar-Kays,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Carl Craig,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
The Slackers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Toni Rubio,
Echospace,
Guru Guru,
The Beau Brummels,
Nils Olav,
Agent Orange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brand Nubian,
Desert Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Fraelich,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
Marcia Griffiths,
Maurizio,
Connie Case,
H. Thieme,
Radio Birdman,
Trumans Water,
Joyce Sims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.