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 Tunisia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 A Certain Ratio to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Clarke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
The Music Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Yazoo,
The Gladiators,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MC5,
Iggy Pop,
FM Einheit,
The New Christs,
Soft Cell,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Janne Schatter,
Qualms,
Drexciya,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Outsiders,
U.S. Maple,
Albert Ayler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Al Stewart,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cramps,
Kerri Chandler,
ABBA,
Neil Young,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The American Breed,
Clear Light,
D'Angelo,
Fat Boys,
Lee Hazlewood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Victims,
Youth Brigade,
Spandau Ballet,
Amon Düül,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
Dave Gahan,
Quando Quango,
The Modern Lovers,
Ohio Players,
Arcadia,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.