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 Uganda and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blancmange to the dance 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Gang of Four,
Guru Guru,
Ten City,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Pop Group,
the Germs,
Yusef Lateef,
Rites of Spring,
Subhumans,
Al Stewart,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sister Nancy,
Piero Umiliani,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sight & Sound,
Marmalade,
Stiv Bators,
Country Teasers,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
Television,
The Residents,
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
Pantaleimon,
kango's stein massive,
Michelle Simonal,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Hoover,
X-101,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
Nick Fraelich,
The Searchers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Glenn Branca,
The Pretty Things,
Little Man,
Average White Band,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
Blancmange,
The Remains,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nik Kershaw,
MC5,
Todd Rundgren,
Cymande,
the Normal,
Bobby Sherman,
Ohio Players,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.