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 Tuvalu and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Amon Düül II to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Saints,
CMW,
Reagan Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
John Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cramps,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Flag,
Harry Pussy,
Main Source,
Crash Course in Science,
Nik Kershaw,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Audionom,
Mars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
L. Decosne,
Monolake,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Teasers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tres Demented,
The Fuzztones,
Groovy Waters,
Monks,
The Victims,
Subhumans,
The Knickerbockers,
Infiniti,
Lungfish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fugs,
Aloha Tigers,
Skaos,
Youth Brigade,
the Sonics,
the Swans,
The Seeds,
Unrelated Segments,
Accadde A,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Talk Talk,
Robert Wyatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Move,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.