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 Zambia and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Bang On A Can to the funk 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Bad Manners,
Thee Headcoats,
The Five Americans,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
Little Man,
The Doobie Brothers,
DJ Style,
Mad Mike,
Bauhaus,
John Cale,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lebanon Hanover,
Colin Newman,
Amazonics,
Nik Kershaw,
OOIOO,
The Mummies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
Wally Richardson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harmonia,
Ossler,
Heaven 17,
Young Marble Giants,
Tubeway Army,
Minor Threat,
Whodini,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eve St. Jones,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
World's Most,
Ultra Naté,
The Searchers,
This Heat,
Scrapy,
Roger Hodgson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
La Düsseldorf,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cramps,
Grauzone,
Scion,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dirtbombs,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Walker Brothers,
Visage,
Bluetip,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.