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 Belarus 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Traffic Nightmare,
U.S. Maple,
The Vogues,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kurtis Blow,
UT,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Monks,
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Flag,
The Invisible,
Eli Mardock,
Silicon Teens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mad Mike,
Avey Tare,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sarah Menescal,
Pantaleimon,
Lindisfarne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
the Human League,
Mr. Review,
Sam Rivers,
Popol Vuh,
Make Up,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Victims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
Robert Görl,
Tomorrow,
Camberwell Now,
Jacob Miller,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fortunes,
Theoretical Girls,
John Foxx,
The Gap Band,
Brick,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
Iggy Pop,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Michelle Simonal,
Spoonie Gee,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.