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 Djibouti and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Graham Central Station to the rock 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kenny Larkin,
Wasted Youth,
Toni Rubio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Slackers,
Black Bananas,
Suicide,
Ultimate Spinach,
Groovy Waters,
Von Mondo,
Fat Boys,
D'Angelo,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deepchord,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Womack,
Ponytail,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yaz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Modern Lovers,
Dave Gahan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yazoo,
Negative Approach,
Hasil Adkins,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Dark Day,
X-102,
Slick Rick,
Eli Mardock,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T.S.O.L.,
The Music Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quadrant,
Lightning Bolt,
Sugar Minott,
Pharoah Sanders,
New York Dolls,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.