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 Azerbaijan and from Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stereo Dub to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
In Retrospect,
Pagans,
Toni Rubio,
Bob Dylan,
The Fuzztones,
Harmonia,
Scientists,
Susan Cadogan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos,
Popol Vuh,
London Community Gospel Choir,
a-ha,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
K-Klass,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Model 500,
The Leaves,
Chris Corsano,
Wally Richardson,
Bang On A Can,
The New Christs,
Young Marble Giants,
The Searchers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Divine Comedy,
E-Dancer,
Eric B and Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
Urselle,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tommy Roe,
Vladislav Delay,
Tropical Tobacco,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Cal Tjader,
Can,
Mad Mike,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Hood,
Sound Behaviour,
Schoolly D,
Boredoms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brothers Johnson,
Motorama,
The Cowsills,
Lakeside,
Bad Manners,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fad Gadget,
Sex Pistols,
Au Pairs,
Alison Limerick,
Rosa Yemen,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.