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 Ecuador and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron 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 Kaleidoscope to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blossom Toes,
Duran Duran,
Mo-Dettes,
Minnie Riperton,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Reagan Youth,
Scan 7,
The Victims,
PIL,
The Moody Blues,
Erasure,
The Zeros,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jacques Brel,
Magazine,
Ken Boothe,
Rotary Connection,
Mr. Review,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
The Grass Roots,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bob Dylan,
Black Flag,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Intrusion,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
The Offenders,
Colin Newman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Josef K,
The Slits,
John Cale,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fad Gadget,
Suburban Knight,
Howard Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Morten Harket,
The Vogues,
Qualms,
X-Ray Spex,
Charles Mingus,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Hardrive,
Outsiders,
China Crisis,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.