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 Tonga 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Henry Cow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gong,
The American Breed,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
T. Rex,
The Durutti Column,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
Black Bananas,
Joy Division,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donny Hathaway,
The Zeros,
The Litter,
Bronski Beat,
Dave Gahan,
the Normal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Graham Central Station,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Bourne,
Fatback Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joensuu 1685,
Davy DMX,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Green,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Cheater Slicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Heaven 17,
Tears for Fears,
The Martian,
Idris Muhammad,
The Trojans,
EPMD,
Donald Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Ten City,
Ohio Players,
Carl Craig,
Sister Nancy,
OOIOO,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
Sparks,
Jacques Brel,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Siglo XX,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Angels of Light,
Hardrive,
Harpers Bizarre,
Amon Düül,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.