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 Ecuador and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scott Walker to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Lucky Dragons,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soft Cell,
Erykah Badu,
Absolute Body Control,
The Residents,
The Leaves,
DNA,
The Red Krayola,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Surgeon,
Nico,
H. Thieme,
Derrick Morgan,
Subhumans,
Anthony Braxton,
Hot Snakes,
Chris Corsano,
the Swans,
Malaria!,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
T.S.O.L.,
The Motions,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Young Marble Giants,
Khruangbin,
Desert Stars,
Visage,
Faraquet,
Y Pants,
Marmalade,
Harry Pussy,
Aaron Thompson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
In Retrospect,
Adolescents,
Roxy Music,
Oneida,
Patti Smith,
Max Romeo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Youth Brigade,
John Coltrane,
Eric Dolphy,
Juan Atkins,
Rufus Thomas,
U.S. Maple,
Television,
La Düsseldorf,
Altered Images,
Los Fastidios,
The Mummies,
Yazoo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Real Kids,
The Monochrome Set,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.