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 Belgium and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Soft Cell to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
In Retrospect,
Infiniti,
Byron Stingily,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
Jawbox,
The Music Machine,
The Associates,
New York Dolls,
MC5,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
Barbara Tucker,
Babytalk,
Stetsasonic,
Public Enemy,
Todd Terry,
Scrapy,
Michelle Simonal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
The Star Department,
The Wake,
Joy Division,
Godley & Creme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Junior Murvin,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Echospace,
Harmonia,
Tomorrow,
Can,
Monolake,
Adolescents,
Skaos,
The Slackers,
Black Sheep,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Boredoms,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Bowie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grauzone,
Eden Ahbez,
Hot Snakes,
Sister Nancy,
L. Decosne,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sound Behaviour,
Procol Harum,
Panda Bear,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.