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 Iceland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
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 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Section 25,
Index,
Black Pus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tubeway Army,
The Pop Group,
the Swans,
Animal Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Supertramp,
The Divine Comedy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Shoche,
Joey Negro,
The Shadows of Knight,
X-Ray Spex,
Mission of Burma,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Josef K,
Althea and Donna,
Scratch Acid,
Half Japanese,
cv313,
Monks,
Massinfluence,
The Durutti Column,
Gong,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bush Tetras,
Deakin,
Cecil Taylor,
Ituana,
The Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Kerrie Biddell,
Outsiders,
Pagans,
T.S.O.L.,
Lalann,
The Pretty Things,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Y Pants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Hood,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Average White Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Moleskins,
Radiohead,
Barry Ungar,
Tears for Fears,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.