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 Benin and from New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Camberwell Now to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide 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?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cure,
Simply Red,
Fear,
the Sonics,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Siglo XX,
Suburban Knight,
Crooked Eye,
Cybotron,
Quadrant,
Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Easy Going,
Silicon Teens,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Erykah Badu,
The Fall,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Machine,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Albert Ayler,
Little Man,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Khruangbin,
MC5,
The Names,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
Pagans,
David McCallum,
Scrapy,
Colin Newman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rekid,
Loose Ends,
Neu!,
Inner City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cecil Taylor,
10cc,
Eli Mardock,
Nico,
Masters at Work,
Barrington Levy,
Sister Nancy,
Ludus,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
Supertramp,
Swans,
The Evens,
Glambeats Corp.,
Los Fastidios,
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül II,
D'Angelo,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.