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 Micronesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eli Mardock,
Todd Rundgren,
Agent Orange,
Circle Jerks,
Khruangbin,
The Remains,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
The Leaves,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
David Bowie,
cv313,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Inner City,
Gong,
Tomorrow,
LL Cool J,
the Normal,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Busters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Order,
James White and The Blacks,
Lungfish,
Marmalade,
Scratch Acid,
Blancmange,
Supertramp,
Duran Duran,
Eric Copeland,
Erasure,
The Blackbyrds,
10cc,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Index,
the Swans,
Bill Near,
The Modern Lovers,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Byrd,
a-ha,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Alice Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
Terry Callier,
Danielle Patucci,
The Last Poets,
Ornette Coleman,
Barrington Levy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echospace,
Aloha Tigers,
Rotary Connection,
Mars,
Jesper Dahlback,
Warren Ellis,
The Misunderstood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.