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 Austria and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 David Axelrod to the grunge 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Banda Bassotti,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doors,
The Litter,
Mandrill,
Jandek,
Unwound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tears for Fears,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Godley & Creme,
Matthew Bourne,
Hardrive,
Smog,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed,
Harmonia,
Nas,
Chrome,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kayak,
Sam Rivers,
Susan Cadogan,
Blake Baxter,
Swans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eden Ahbez,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
T.S.O.L.,
Derrick Morgan,
Underground Resistance,
Urselle,
Dual Sessions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Cure,
Surgeon,
Rotary Connection,
Clear Light,
Camberwell Now,
Bronski Beat,
Ice-T,
DNA,
Fugazi,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Stooges,
Marine Girls,
10cc,
The Smiths,
Franke,
Joy Division,
Liliput,
Gichy Dan,
Chris & Cosey,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.