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 Ireland and from Shanghai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Kerri Chandler to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Whodini,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lee Hazlewood,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gichy Dan,
Saccharine Trust,
Eurythmics,
Altered Images,
Roxette,
The Cowsills,
Bad Manners,
Danielle Patucci,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Rapeman,
Slick Rick,
Wolf Eyes,
The Beau Brummels,
Arcadia,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masters at Work,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
Roger Hodgson,
Lower 48,
Anthony Braxton,
Qualms,
Roxy Music,
Joey Negro,
Jacques Brel,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Christie,
Bootsy Collins,
AZ,
Sam Rivers,
Depeche Mode,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Young Rascals,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smiths,
Delon & Dalcan,
June of 44,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
B.T. Express,
The Evens,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Desert Stars,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Golliwogs,
Stetsasonic,
The Busters,
Scion,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.