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 China and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Unwound to the dance 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
the Association,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
Eddi Front,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Metal Thangz,
The Real Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
The Angels of Light,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
The Moody Blues,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
the Human League,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warren Ellis,
Alphaville,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kenny Larkin,
Marvin Gaye,
A Certain Ratio,
Ten City,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kayak,
Minny Pops,
Organ,
The Moleskins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry's Kids,
The Music Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Shuggie Otis,
The Trojans,
Black Moon,
Freddie Wadling,
Sex Pistols,
Moby Grape,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June Days,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Mills,
Harry Pussy,
Vainqueur,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
Sight & Sound,
Cluster,
The Index,
Howard Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
Hardrive,
Bang On A Can,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.