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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Royal Trux to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Yusef Lateef,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
Nico,
Judy Mowatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Flag,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
Nils Olav,
The Saints,
Bad Manners,
Surgeon,
Absolute Body Control,
Derrick Morgan,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Warren Ellis,
Wings,
Symarip,
David McCallum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marmalade,
Talk Talk,
Mandrill,
Unwound,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brass Construction,
Interpol,
Barrington Levy,
Isaac Hayes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eli Mardock,
the Swans,
Faust,
FM Einheit,
Funky Four + One,
Unrelated Segments,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultimate Spinach,
China Crisis,
Todd Rundgren,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ten City,
Barry Ungar,
Rites of Spring,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.