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 Haiti and from London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 Black Pus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
the Swans,
Erykah Badu,
The Gories,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Wyatt,
The Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kenny Larkin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Sherman,
The Motions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neu!,
Black Flag,
Slave,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Metal Thangz,
Crash Course in Science,
Bang On A Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fat Boys,
Tears for Fears,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bootsy Collins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Popol Vuh,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Henry Cow,
Theoretical Girls,
Echospace,
Skriet,
Terrestrial Tones,
Massinfluence,
Supertramp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rufus Thomas,
Carl Craig,
Cameo,
The Dirtbombs,
Graham Central Station,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Prince Buster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Connie Case,
Amazonics,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Severed Heads,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minor Threat,
Eli Mardock,
MC5,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Zapp,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.