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 Singapore and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Invisible to the grunge 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Television Personalities,
Wings,
Eurythmics,
Silicon Teens,
John Holt,
The Walker Brothers,
Cameo,
Tubeway Army,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
The Fall,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fad Gadget,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fortunes,
Zero Boys,
Scion,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hasil Adkins,
This Heat,
Don Cherry,
Dark Day,
T. Rex,
Fatback Band,
Monolake,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
Monks,
Bauhaus,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
The Gap Band,
Niagra,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
The Victims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minnie Riperton,
ABBA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bobby Womack,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
James White and The Blacks,
Rosa Yemen,
Mandrill,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
E-Dancer,
Television,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.