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 Nicaragua and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Andrew Hill to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Gang Gang Dance,
K-Klass,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sällskapet,
Pagans,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Grass Roots,
Nirvana,
Magma,
Lungfish,
Bluetip,
The Mummies,
Quadrant,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monks,
The Divine Comedy,
Cal Tjader,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Skatalites,
Graham Central Station,
Jimmy McGriff,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
The Searchers,
Gang of Four,
LL Cool J,
Section 25,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Youth Brigade,
Eve St. Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Sneak,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nico,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Charles Mingus,
Susan Cadogan,
The Buckinghams,
Donald Byrd,
L. Decosne,
Pulsallama,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gories,
the Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Moss Icon,
Country Teasers,
Au Pairs,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.