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 Montenegro and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wire,
The Offenders,
Dual Sessions,
The Blackbyrds,
Hot Snakes,
The Techniques,
Ohio Players,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
Zero Boys,
the Association,
Scott Walker,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Piero Umiliani,
MDC,
Make Up,
The Motions,
Pantaleimon,
Quantec,
Laurel Aitken,
Arab on Radar,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Young Rascals,
Kayak,
Jeff Lynne,
The Blues Magoos,
The Victims,
The Count Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Radio Birdman,
Skaos,
Easy Going,
D'Angelo,
Ten City,
Cameo,
Rufus Thomas,
Loose Ends,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Doors,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Inner City,
T. Rex,
Trumans Water,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thee Headcoats,
Quadrant,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fatback Band,
Cymande,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pussy Galore,
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
Television,
Barry Ungar,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.