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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the crunk 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Organ,
The Leaves,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Reed,
Rufus Thomas,
These Immortal Souls,
Joe Finger,
Slave,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Star Department,
KRS-One,
The Misunderstood,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
the Soft Cell,
Nas,
Pet Shop Boys,
OOIOO,
Deakin,
Theoretical Girls,
Radiohead,
Y Pants,
X-Ray Spex,
Tres Demented,
Man Eating Sloth,
Donald Byrd,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sex Pistols,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oneida,
The Mummies,
Peter and Kerry,
Hardrive,
Erasure,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soft Machine,
The Trojans,
Bob Dylan,
kango's stein massive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wire,
Moss Icon,
Panda Bear,
Mark Hollis,
Skriet,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
The Birthday Party,
The Motions,
Lower 48,
The Monochrome Set,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Todd Terry,
the Normal,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.