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 Germany and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Letta Mbulu,
Pagans,
Peter and Kerry,
The Monochrome Set,
Urselle,
Accadde A,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
Bobby Sherman,
Dennis Brown,
Rod Modell,
The Litter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alton Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Don Cherry,
Delta 5,
Marine Girls,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Aswad,
The Moody Blues,
June of 44,
Bob Dylan,
Donny Hathaway,
Laurel Aitken,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gladiators,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Blancmange,
Youth Brigade,
Magma,
Gang Starr,
Warren Ellis,
Tubeway Army,
Von Mondo,
Ultravox,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
Essential Logic,
MC5,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Sandy B,
Erykah Badu,
cv313,
Maleditus Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Stooges,
U.S. Maple,
Depeche Mode,
UT,
Yaz,
MDC,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
Au Pairs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.