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 Bahamas and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Roxy Music to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Tres Demented,
The Victims,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Prince Buster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Loose Ends,
Pantaleimon,
Althea and Donna,
James White and The Blacks,
World's Most,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stereo Dub,
Albert Ayler,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
Panda Bear,
Malaria!,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Slave,
Scion,
Trumans Water,
Lebanon Hanover,
T. Rex,
X-101,
Parry Music,
The Invisible,
Gang Starr,
Sister Nancy,
Magazine,
Au Pairs,
Brass Construction,
Scott Walker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
PIL,
Excepter,
Quantec,
Brothers Johnson,
Fad Gadget,
Flipper,
The Golliwogs,
The Birthday Party,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Green,
The Pretty Things,
Sun City Girls,
Japan,
Leonard Cohen,
Rotary Connection,
Donny Hathaway,
La Düsseldorf,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
The Doors,
Neil Young,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.