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 Iran and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a theremin 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 theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
the Association,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Litter,
Carl Craig,
Country Joe & The Fish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wolf Eyes,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Bowie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Graham Central Station,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
Section 25,
Zapp,
Kool Moe Dee,
DJ Style,
Ronnie Foster,
New Order,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mark Hollis,
Banda Bassotti,
The Raincoats,
Soft Cell,
This Heat,
Fat Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Tubeway Army,
Byron Stingily,
Todd Terry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
Lindisfarne,
Dawn Penn,
Symarip,
Au Pairs,
Roxette,
John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sun City Girls,
Oneida,
The Grass Roots,
Faust,
D'Angelo,
Minor Threat,
The Barracudas,
Curtis Mayfield,
MC5,
Judy Mowatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott Heron,
Second Layer,
Amon Düül,
Rites of Spring,
Donny Hathaway,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.