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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Slave to the rock 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Thompson Twins,
Roger Hodgson,
The Knickerbockers,
One Last Wish,
the Normal,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ralphi Rosario,
Siglo XX,
The Cowsills,
The Vogues,
Fear,
The Fall,
The Fire Engines,
Outsiders,
Bill Near,
Unrelated Segments,
Big Daddy Kane,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Ituana,
Royal Trux,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quando Quango,
The Evens,
Bad Manners,
Black Bananas,
The Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sandy B,
The Toasters,
Country Teasers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Q and Not U,
Main Source,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Shoche,
Nico,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Association,
Ten City,
Rosa Yemen,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tears for Fears,
Mars,
Andrew Hill,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alphaville,
The Residents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Colin Newman,
ABC,
Pierre Henry,
Matthew Bourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.