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 Houston.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Peter & Gordon to the dance 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
Robert Wyatt,
Stiv Bators,
KRS-One,
Gong,
The Buckinghams,
Anthony Braxton,
The United States of America,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
ABBA,
Byron Stingily,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camberwell Now,
Young Marble Giants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Crash Course in Science,
Alison Limerick,
Marine Girls,
Newcleus,
Reagan Youth,
Fatback Band,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick May,
The Evens,
the Normal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Selecter,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Hood,
Ten City,
Delta 5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacques Brel,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donald Byrd,
Infiniti,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fuzztones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lyres,
Pierre Henry,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Yusef Lateef,
Lindisfarne,
Nico,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
Harmonia,
Hashim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
The Angels of Light,
Suicide,
Bad Manners,
Sixth Finger,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.