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 Panama and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
The Gladiators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Pole,
Siglo XX,
Cheater Slicks,
Porter Ricks,
Nils Olav,
Lalann,
Qualms,
Marmalade,
Girls At Our Best!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Model 500,
Tom Boy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
AZ,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Slits,
Deepchord,
Minny Pops,
David Axelrod,
Barrington Levy,
Urselle,
Amon Düül II,
Make Up,
Donald Byrd,
Delta 5,
Pussy Galore,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
Derrick Morgan,
Jawbox,
Charles Mingus,
The Pretty Things,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Bananas,
Warsaw,
The Remains,
Patti Smith,
Cameo,
Kerrie Biddell,
LL Cool J,
Albert Ayler,
Todd Terry,
Jeff Mills,
The Grass Roots,
The Mummies,
Rotary Connection,
The New Christs,
Country Teasers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eurythmics,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.