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 Uruguay and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Crash Course in Science to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Make Up,
Das Ding,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry's Kids,
Bluetip,
Boredoms,
Soulsonic Force,
Monks,
Parry Music,
Sister Nancy,
Man Parrish,
Minutemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Max Romeo,
the Human League,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Sherman,
Joe Finger,
The Smiths,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fugs,
Rufus Thomas,
The Neon Judgement,
Tubeway Army,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Groovy Waters,
Marc Almond,
Severed Heads,
Kerri Chandler,
Angry Samoans,
Echospace,
La Düsseldorf,
cv313,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Susan Cadogan,
Althea and Donna,
Fad Gadget,
Reagan Youth,
Eden Ahbez,
Bauhaus,
The Residents,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ossler,
Moss Icon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Saints,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.