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 Iraq and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the funk 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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Banda Bassotti,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fluxion,
The Index,
Fear,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
This Heat,
Khruangbin,
Marc Almond,
Little Man,
Soft Machine,
PIL,
Minutemen,
Scott Walker,
Maurizio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Fraelich,
Zapp,
UT,
Lucky Dragons,
Jawbox,
Wally Richardson,
The Human League,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jacques Brel,
Agitation Free,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cluster,
Ponytail,
The Associates,
New Age Steppers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Names,
Surgeon,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Arthur Verocai,
The Golliwogs,
The Dead C,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sound,
MC5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash,
E-Dancer,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Gang Dance,
Glambeats Corp.,
MDC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Saccharine Trust,
Eve St. Jones,
Interpol,
Qualms,
The Dirtbombs,
Lakeside,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Severed Heads,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.