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 United Kingdom and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Thee Headcoats,
Y Pants,
Iggy Pop,
a-ha,
Eve St. Jones,
Loose Ends,
Subhumans,
Reuben Wilson,
Kaleidoscope,
Kerrie Biddell,
Livin' Joy,
The Music Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
Easy Going,
Danielle Patucci,
Electric Prunes,
The Barracudas,
Toni Rubio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fugs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
David Bowie,
Thompson Twins,
Average White Band,
Soft Machine,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Move,
Isaac Hayes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Godley & Creme,
Duran Duran,
Procol Harum,
The Red Krayola,
Essential Logic,
Wings,
Hardrive,
Audionom,
Dark Day,
Robert Görl,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Halsall,
Massinfluence,
Minutemen,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
Skriet,
Ohio Players,
The Divine Comedy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
Gong,
Jacob Miller,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.