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 Iceland and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Banda Bassotti to the grunge 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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Connie Case,
Tubeway Army,
Byron Stingily,
Neu!,
Graham Central Station,
Theoretical Girls,
Patti Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Monks,
The Monks,
Massinfluence,
Von Mondo,
R.M.O.,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Hood,
The Barracudas,
Trumans Water,
The Red Krayola,
Funky Four + One,
Little Man,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mojo Men,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Misunderstood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Newcleus,
The Five Americans,
Clear Light,
Can,
Scan 7,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Buckinghams,
Skarface,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stereo Dub,
Ronan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ludus,
Vainqueur,
LL Cool J,
Ponytail,
Robert Görl,
Isaac Hayes,
Pierre Henry,
In Retrospect,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joy Division,
Eli Mardock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Al Stewart,
Soft Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
CMW,
June of 44,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
Sparks,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
Bob Dylan,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.