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 Brazil and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
a-ha,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Dawn Penn,
The Vogues,
Swell Maps,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
The Buckinghams,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
Can,
Altered Images,
Spandau Ballet,
Stiv Bators,
Soul II Soul,
Idris Muhammad,
Brick,
Max Romeo,
Newcleus,
Graham Central Station,
The Gun Club,
The Moleskins,
Metal Thangz,
Kerri Chandler,
Patti Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Hashim,
Young Marble Giants,
Fugazi,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ossler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Section 25,
David McCallum,
Mr. Review,
The Blues Magoos,
Roger Hodgson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alice Coltrane,
Marmalade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Television,
Monolake,
Lou Christie,
Popol Vuh,
Gichy Dan,
Country Teasers,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.