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 Dominica and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Desert Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aloha Tigers,
Iggy Pop,
Barry Ungar,
Siglo XX,
Blossom Toes,
L. Decosne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jandek,
D'Angelo,
Khruangbin,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pulsallama,
Fat Boys,
Marc Almond,
Junior Murvin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bronski Beat,
Newcleus,
Q65,
Anakelly,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick Morgan,
CMW,
Frankie Knuckles,
10cc,
The Techniques,
New Order,
Girls At Our Best!,
Model 500,
The Standells,
U.S. Maple,
ABBA,
Gong,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
Eddi Front,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Grass Roots,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sparks,
Porter Ricks,
David Axelrod,
Tres Demented,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eurythmics,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.