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 Mauritania and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Brick to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Cameo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Music Machine,
The Skatalites,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pantaleimon,
The Searchers,
KRS-One,
Arthur Verocai,
Ice-T,
Hasil Adkins,
Soft Cell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
The Grass Roots,
Marshall Jefferson,
Audionom,
Joyce Sims,
Aaron Thompson,
Loose Ends,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
Tim Buckley,
Pet Shop Boys,
CMW,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Walker Brothers,
Make Up,
Deakin,
Deadbeat,
Lou Christie,
R.M.O.,
Pantytec,
The Trojans,
The Dead C,
Marc Almond,
Aural Exciters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Stereo Dub,
Rotary Connection,
Babytalk,
The Selecter,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronnie Foster,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
Scratch Acid,
Technova,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radiopuhelimet,
Royal Trux,
Crooked Eye,
The J.B.'s,
Anakelly,
Franke,
Amazonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.