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 Singapore and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sisters of Mercy to the electroclash 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Judy Mowatt,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
Faraquet,
Rotary Connection,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry's Kids,
The Five Americans,
The Standells,
Buzzcocks,
Supertramp,
The Count Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Evens,
Bobby Sherman,
Von Mondo,
Sight & Sound,
Guru Guru,
Harry Pussy,
Ituana,
Young Marble Giants,
Quadrant,
The Invisible,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun City Girls,
Ohio Players,
Bad Manners,
Monks,
Urselle,
In Retrospect,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deadbeat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
Erykah Badu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Graham Central Station,
Marine Girls,
Duran Duran,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Sarah Menescal,
Bauhaus,
Au Pairs,
Skarface,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
Crime,
Gichy Dan,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare,
Easy Going,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rosa Yemen,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
New Age Steppers,
The Busters,
Fear,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.