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 Samoa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Blues Magoos to the crunk 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Motions,
Alton Ellis,
Niagra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gladiators,
8 Eyed Spy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chrome,
Rosa Yemen,
Mo-Dettes,
The Music Machine,
Fat Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
A Certain Ratio,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Copeland,
Scan 7,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deepchord,
Audionom,
Joe Smooth,
Yusef Lateef,
Half Japanese,
kango's stein massive,
Man Parrish,
Guru Guru,
Harpers Bizarre,
New York Dolls,
Funky Four + One,
Barbara Tucker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Rundgren,
D'Angelo,
The Gun Club,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Anakelly,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
Monks,
The Remains,
Max Romeo,
ABBA,
Robert Hood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Names,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T.S.O.L.,
The Red Krayola,
Silicon Teens,
The Count Five,
Pantytec,
Maurizio,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.