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 Moldova and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nirvana to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Human League,
Junior Murvin,
Aural Exciters,
Bauhaus,
Barry Ungar,
Echospace,
The Blackbyrds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swell Maps,
Von Mondo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Busters,
Supertramp,
Chrome,
The Remains,
The Saints,
Howard Jones,
Neu!,
The Angels of Light,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Masters at Work,
Whodini,
China Crisis,
The Residents,
Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cheater Slicks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispian St. Peters,
MDC,
The Walker Brothers,
Jandek,
Minutemen,
Moby Grape,
Warsaw,
Eli Mardock,
Brass Construction,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
Scott Walker,
Jawbox,
Ludus,
Theoretical Girls,
ABC,
Ossler,
Fad Gadget,
Jerry's Kids,
The Knickerbockers,
Curtis Mayfield,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sällskapet,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.