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 Maldives and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Soul II Soul to the techno 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Fat Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Evens,
Jeff Mills,
The Cowsills,
Magma,
Maurizio,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Angry Samoans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars,
Au Pairs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Josef K,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Skarface,
Warren Ellis,
The Fugs,
New Order,
Cameo,
John Coltrane,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gladiators,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Litter,
The Smiths,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Porter Ricks,
Agitation Free,
Yellowson,
Byron Stingily,
Absolute Body Control,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Happenings,
Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Susan Cadogan,
Inner City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kas Product,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Nico,
Judy Mowatt,
The Leaves,
One Last Wish,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
The Music Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Soft Cell,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Style,
Eric Copeland,
MDC,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
Shoche,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.