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 Uganda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 Siglo XX to the grunge 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Freddie Wadling,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Electric Prunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Susan Cadogan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dual Sessions,
Absolute Body Control,
Accadde A,
Kenny Larkin,
Minor Threat,
The Move,
The Moody Blues,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Basic Channel,
Banda Bassotti,
A Certain Ratio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fad Gadget,
Bluetip,
Tropical Tobacco,
T. Rex,
Goldenarms,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter & Gordon,
Rekid,
Arab on Radar,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stetsasonic,
The United States of America,
Prince Buster,
The Fugs,
Idris Muhammad,
Index,
Bauhaus,
Intrusion,
Qualms,
Alison Limerick,
Fatback Band,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Agent Orange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Make Up,
Gabor Szabo,
Neu!,
Oblivians,
Pussy Galore,
World's Most,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visage,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Barracudas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.