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 Brazil and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Niagra to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
The Fugs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sugar Minott,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jerry's Kids,
CMW,
Magazine,
Procol Harum,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vladislav Delay,
X-101,
Skriet,
The Move,
Banda Bassotti,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Chris Corsano,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Johnny Clarke,
Steve Hackett,
Fatback Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Iggy Pop,
Aloha Tigers,
Metal Thangz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Theoretical Girls,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
Ronan,
The Associates,
Quando Quango,
Barrington Levy,
The Star Department,
Goldenarms,
Nirvana,
Peter & Gordon,
the Germs,
La Düsseldorf,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Whodini,
Skaos,
a-ha,
The Fortunes,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacques Brel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun City Girls,
The Black Dice,
Brick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Golliwogs,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.