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 Venezuela and from Accra.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 James White and The Blacks 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Newcleus,
Scott Walker,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
T. Rex,
The Divine Comedy,
Bush Tetras,
Index,
Rekid,
David McCallum,
Robert Görl,
Wally Richardson,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
David Bowie,
Mission of Burma,
the Germs,
The Birthday Party,
Sällskapet,
Mr. Review,
Symarip,
Deepchord,
Monks,
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Nik Kershaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Real Kids,
JFA,
Althea and Donna,
The Knickerbockers,
B.T. Express,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Y Pants,
Ultravox,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cybotron,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eden Ahbez,
Zapp,
Banda Bassotti,
Isaac Hayes,
Stereo Dub,
Derrick Morgan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lucky Dragons,
Hashim,
Spandau Ballet,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Wells,
Black Moon,
Blancmange,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.