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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Martian to the grunge 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tim Buckley,
The Smoke,
Goldenarms,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
Procol Harum,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lalann,
Easy Going,
Gang Gang Dance,
Y Pants,
Susan Cadogan,
The Move,
Scott Walker,
Letta Mbulu,
Country Teasers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Count Five,
Bootsy Collins,
This Heat,
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül,
The Smiths,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cluster,
Main Source,
Tears for Fears,
KRS-One,
Moss Icon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dead Boys,
F. McDonald,
Niagra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Steve Hackett,
X-101,
Donald Byrd,
Sarah Menescal,
Nico,
Hot Snakes,
Suburban Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
The Pretty Things,
The Gories,
H. Thieme,
Spandau Ballet,
John Coltrane,
Maurizio,
The Angels of Light,
The Knickerbockers,
Roxy Music,
a-ha,
Suicide,
Pole,
The Dave Clark Five,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.