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 Uganda and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Yazoo to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Angels of Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liliput,
The Mojo Men,
Nick Fraelich,
Franke,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Christie,
Ultra Naté,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
The Vogues,
New York Dolls,
Icehouse,
UT,
Sparks,
Joe Smooth,
The Leaves,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Japan,
Archie Shepp,
Tres Demented,
Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Echospace,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
The Five Americans,
Theoretical Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Teasers,
Al Stewart,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gabor Szabo,
Niagra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
Bob Dylan,
Circle Jerks,
The Saints,
Bad Manners,
Tim Buckley,
Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
Massinfluence,
Dead Boys,
Anakelly,
Tubeway Army,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.