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 Iraq and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Television to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
the Germs,
Camouflage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
48th St. Collective,
EPMD,
Lalann,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
Skarface,
Robert Wyatt,
Jandek,
Qualms,
a-ha,
DJ Sneak,
China Crisis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Albert Ayler,
Man Eating Sloth,
Circle Jerks,
10cc,
Von Mondo,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Trojans,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Half Japanese,
La Düsseldorf,
Das Ding,
Delon & Dalcan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Royal Trux,
Public Enemy,
Country Teasers,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
The Litter,
Massinfluence,
Freddie Wadling,
Andrew Hill,
The Residents,
Tears for Fears,
Easy Going,
The Evens,
MC5,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roxy Music,
Michelle Simonal,
Blossom Toes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
Fear,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Anthony Braxton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
K-Klass,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.