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 Dominican Republic and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
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 harpsichord 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 The Cowsills to the funk 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Au Pairs,
Todd Terry,
Skaos,
Brand Nubian,
Michelle Simonal,
Clear Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jandek,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Leaves,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soft Cell,
Marc Almond,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Holt,
Negative Approach,
Intrusion,
Gang of Four,
The Litter,
Patti Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Carl Craig,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Archie Shepp,
John Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Reagan Youth,
Henry Cow,
Aaron Thompson,
Jerry's Kids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boredoms,
Gong,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-102,
Banda Bassotti,
Susan Cadogan,
Joy Division,
Don Cherry,
Ultra Naté,
Connie Case,
Wings,
Whodini,
Organ,
Maurizio,
Oblivians,
FM Einheit,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alison Limerick,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Toasters,
Khruangbin,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.