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 Luxembourg and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 The Cramps to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Soft Cell,
Tim Buckley,
U.S. Maple,
Half Japanese,
Khruangbin,
Brick,
Franke,
Ultravox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yellowson,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Depeche Mode,
The Gap Band,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
Barbara Tucker,
Scion,
10cc,
EPMD,
June of 44,
Sugar Minott,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Thompson Twins,
Bluetip,
Ronnie Foster,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mojo Men,
Minnie Riperton,
Lucky Dragons,
Mantronix,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Pole,
Graham Central Station,
Davy DMX,
Faraquet,
Banda Bassotti,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
The Black Dice,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Con Funk Shun,
Joensuu 1685,
Easy Going,
The Gories,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Gang of Four,
Zero Boys,
The Cure,
ABBA,
Sex Pistols,
Ponytail,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.