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 Latvia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
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 theremin 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 Quadrant to the electroclash 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Au Pairs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Can,
Danielle Patucci,
The Monochrome Set,
Eric Dolphy,
The American Breed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dual Sessions,
Archie Shepp,
The Buckinghams,
Black Flag,
Sixth Finger,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Charles Mingus,
Marc Almond,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Average White Band,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes,
Monolake,
Section 25,
R.M.O.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bauhaus,
Alton Ellis,
Basic Channel,
Crash Course in Science,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suicide,
Erykah Badu,
OOIOO,
Das Ding,
The Pop Group,
The Wake,
Ten City,
Camouflage,
Ultra Naté,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
D'Angelo,
Excepter,
The Slackers,
Maleditus Sound,
Yusef Lateef,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deepchord,
Wasted Youth,
The Divine Comedy,
Yazoo,
Sonic Youth,
B.T. Express,
Drexciya,
Ornette Coleman,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.