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 Cape Verde and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Gap Band to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
The Golliwogs,
Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quando Quango,
Eddi Front,
David Bowie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
Make Up,
The Fortunes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Supertramp,
Mark Hollis,
Whodini,
Bluetip,
The Gun Club,
Accadde A,
Terry Callier,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
Deakin,
Boredoms,
Jandek,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Bananas,
the Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
Procol Harum,
MC5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Fraelich,
Porter Ricks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Teasers,
Public Enemy,
Shoche,
Delon & Dalcan,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Siglo XX,
Sonic Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Depeche Mode,
Bad Manners,
Bootsy Collins,
Das Ding,
Joy Division,
Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Q65,
Interpol,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.