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 Iran and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the jazz 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Electric Prunes,
Danielle Patucci,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
Pussy Galore,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arthur Verocai,
Matthew Bourne,
Outsiders,
Aaron Thompson,
Siglo XX,
Marshall Jefferson,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men,
Arab on Radar,
The Vogues,
Chris Corsano,
Masters at Work,
Sun City Girls,
The Cure,
Japan,
Scrapy,
The Fuzztones,
Dave Gahan,
Scratch Acid,
The Fugs,
Adolescents,
Intrusion,
Kerri Chandler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nirvana,
Mary Jane Girls,
The American Breed,
Delta 5,
Stockholm Monsters,
Second Layer,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
These Immortal Souls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moss Icon,
D'Angelo,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
cv313,
Eddi Front,
Oneida,
H. Thieme,
Jerry's Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Black Dice,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Talk Talk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.