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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Almond to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
New Order,
Oneida,
The Raincoats,
X-Ray Spex,
The Mummies,
Lakeside,
Heaven 17,
The Divine Comedy,
Warren Ellis,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barry Ungar,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Deepchord,
Bush Tetras,
Eli Mardock,
The Offenders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quantec,
Andrew Hill,
48th St. Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
Kaleidoscope,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tommy Roe,
The Cure,
Dead Boys,
Joe Smooth,
Maleditus Sound,
Soft Machine,
Tomorrow,
Cheater Slicks,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mojo Men,
Tim Buckley,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
Mary Jane Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maurizio,
Jeff Mills,
Faraquet,
Sixth Finger,
Blossom Toes,
Thee Headcoats,
John Lydon,
X-101,
Morten Harket,
Fluxion,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
Delta 5,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.