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 Sri Lanka and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Iggy Pop to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Y Pants,
Tears for Fears,
Lalann,
Hot Snakes,
Oneida,
Harpers Bizarre,
Con Funk Shun,
The Slits,
Neu!,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The J.B.'s,
MC5,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
Toni Rubio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Moon,
Infiniti,
Angry Samoans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Graham Central Station,
Organ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rosa Yemen,
Joensuu 1685,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Funkadelic,
Thompson Twins,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
PIL,
Au Pairs,
Matthew Halsall,
Nirvana,
Jimmy McGriff,
OOIOO,
The Count Five,
ABC,
Intrusion,
Bad Manners,
Goldenarms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bush Tetras,
Scratch Acid,
The Stooges,
Sarah Menescal,
Flamin' Groovies,
Byron Stingily,
Fad Gadget,
Minor Threat,
The Gap Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Patti Smith,
Funky Four + One,
Darondo,
Gang Green,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.