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 Tanzania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Pantytec to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Byrd,
MC5,
the Association,
Sonic Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Erasure,
Qualms,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
Pierre Henry,
EPMD,
the Fania All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
UT,
Magma,
Mo-Dettes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
Tres Demented,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash,
T. Rex,
The Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Liliput,
Scratch Acid,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Seeds,
Ice-T,
Harry Pussy,
Depeche Mode,
Nico,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Y Pants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
The Skatalites,
Jacob Miller,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
Babytalk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Trumans Water,
Bang On A Can,
Second Layer,
Section 25,
Yusef Lateef,
The Tremeloes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Glenn Branca,
Wings,
Danielle Patucci,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.