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 Afghanistan and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Captain Beefheart 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 The Real Kids to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
AZ,
Ponytail,
Moebius,
Erasure,
The Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
The Gap Band,
Los Fastidios,
Minny Pops,
The Young Rascals,
Toni Rubio,
Deadbeat,
Derrick Morgan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pussy Galore,
Harpers Bizarre,
La Düsseldorf,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Trumans Water,
Altered Images,
D'Angelo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
Nils Olav,
U.S. Maple,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Faraquet,
The Zeros,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Kinks,
Mars,
Arcadia,
These Immortal Souls,
Motorama,
Jerry Gold Smith,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Mills,
Tim Buckley,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Slick Rick,
The Fortunes,
Eric Copeland,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Modern Lovers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.