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 Albania and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rotary Connection to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fortunes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
Outsiders,
Matthew Halsall,
The Leaves,
K-Klass,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Circle Jerks,
Godley & Creme,
Saccharine Trust,
Joey Negro,
Ossler,
Marc Almond,
Chris & Cosey,
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Faust,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Archie Shepp,
Von Mondo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Moleskins,
Aural Exciters,
Toni Rubio,
Gichy Dan,
Panda Bear,
Tim Buckley,
Joy Division,
The Golliwogs,
Q and Not U,
Severed Heads,
Sugar Minott,
Make Up,
Gabor Szabo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Slits,
The Pop Group,
Bronski Beat,
Jeff Mills,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kaleidoscope,
Oneida,
Soulsonic Force,
Slick Rick,
Robert Görl,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pulsallama,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Blackbyrds,
Iggy Pop,
The Gap Band,
John Foxx,
Black Sheep,
Crime,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.