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 Kiribati and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 the Sonics to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Scientists,
Cluster,
Model 500,
Mars,
A Certain Ratio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Seeds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
ABBA,
The Dirtbombs,
Blancmange,
Reagan Youth,
Eurythmics,
PIL,
Franke,
Gang Starr,
Thompson Twins,
The Zeros,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
Marvin Gaye,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fad Gadget,
Animal Collective,
Deakin,
Kenny Larkin,
FM Einheit,
Stereo Dub,
The Birthday Party,
Angry Samoans,
Dennis Brown,
Cybotron,
Mission of Burma,
The Moody Blues,
DJ Sneak,
The Offenders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Infiniti,
Lou Reed,
Curtis Mayfield,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Move,
John Foxx,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Drexciya,
Black Bananas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flamin' Groovies,
T. Rex,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.