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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sister Nancy to the grime 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Black Dice,
Suicide,
Roxy Music,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
Maurizio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Steve Hackett,
A Certain Ratio,
Au Pairs,
the Sonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Alison Limerick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joey Negro,
Hoover,
T.S.O.L.,
Moby Grape,
Deadbeat,
Davy DMX,
Con Funk Shun,
Lungfish,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed,
Aaron Thompson,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
The Associates,
Subhumans,
Tres Demented,
Magma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Flag,
Gang Starr,
The Walker Brothers,
Dark Day,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
Stiv Bators,
Jerry's Kids,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
Yellowson,
OOIOO,
The Tremeloes,
Nico,
Rakim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Funky Four + One,
Barbara Tucker,
FM Einheit,
Gichy Dan,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.