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 Burkina and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Royal Trux to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
DNA,
Pylon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Little Man,
Circle Jerks,
Alison Limerick,
Minor Threat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pretty Things,
Jeff Lynne,
Sister Nancy,
Khruangbin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fear,
Spandau Ballet,
Kerri Chandler,
The Blackbyrds,
Eddi Front,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lungfish,
Janne Schatter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Pus,
JFA,
Hashim,
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
New Order,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Drexciya,
Supertramp,
Alphaville,
Morten Harket,
Ossler,
Tom Boy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kaleidoscope,
The Victims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Normal,
Tears for Fears,
Animal Collective,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed,
Colin Newman,
Wire,
Lyres,
48th St. Collective,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Talk Talk,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Smog,
Jandek,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Christie,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.