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 Lebanon and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cheater Slicks to the disco 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Vainqueur,
Slick Rick,
The Barracudas,
Stereo Dub,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pussy Galore,
Mars,
Camouflage,
Minny Pops,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pierre Henry,
Pole,
Con Funk Shun,
Iggy Pop,
Icehouse,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
Boz Scaggs,
H. Thieme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Invisible,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Minnie Riperton,
The Remains,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Japan,
KRS-One,
Quadrant,
Eddi Front,
Colin Newman,
Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Flag,
Henry Cow,
Tom Boy,
Unwound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Royal Trux,
The Shadows of Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Flash Fearless,
Scientists,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.