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 Cuba and from Tehran.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Real Kids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Procol Harum,
Chris & Cosey,
Interpol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ohio Players,
D'Angelo,
Minnie Riperton,
The Invisible,
Saccharine Trust,
Deakin,
Dave Gahan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Simply Red,
The Stooges,
the Germs,
Nick Fraelich,
Motorama,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Martian,
Pulsallama,
Slick Rick,
Idris Muhammad,
The Techniques,
Harpers Bizarre,
Circle Jerks,
Arthur Verocai,
Sparks,
The Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Lydon,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Animal Collective,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ten City,
Alton Ellis,
Rosa Yemen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eurythmics,
Hardrive,
Faust,
June Days,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kayak,
Harmonia,
Eden Ahbez,
Crooked Eye,
ABC,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Loose Ends,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.