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 States and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Dead C to the techno 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Michelle Simonal,
Livin' Joy,
Iggy Pop,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magma,
Yellowson,
Morten Harket,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantytec,
Rufus Thomas,
48th St. Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Das Ding,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
Fear,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stiv Bators,
the Germs,
Monolake,
T.S.O.L.,
Warren Ellis,
Brick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DNA,
Letta Mbulu,
Brass Construction,
Gang of Four,
Scientists,
the Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gong,
Marc Almond,
Von Mondo,
Swans,
Motorama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Surgeon,
Rites of Spring,
The Index,
Wire,
D'Angelo,
a-ha,
Johnny Clarke,
Rekid,
Lower 48,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Barracudas,
Matthew Halsall,
The Vogues,
Jawbox,
The Residents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ituana,
U.S. Maple,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.