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 Luxembourg and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron 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 Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Pylon,
The Pretty Things,
One Last Wish,
Depeche Mode,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
A Certain Ratio,
Grey Daturas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wally Richardson,
Hashim,
Interpol,
Sun City Girls,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
Sällskapet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Altered Images,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arcadia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Model 500,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Qualms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Parrish,
The Human League,
The Mojo Men,
Yusef Lateef,
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Aloha Tigers,
Rufus Thomas,
David Bowie,
The Kinks,
Stetsasonic,
Bill Near,
Agent Orange,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Rundgren,
The Evens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lower 48,
Yazoo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ice-T,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jawbox,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Brothers Johnson,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Walker Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Bad Manners,
B.T. Express,
Gabor Szabo,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.