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 New Zealand 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Magazine to the funk 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Erasure,
Nick Fraelich,
Zero Boys,
Yaz,
The Misunderstood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crime,
Oneida,
Donald Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultra Naté,
Arthur Verocai,
Camouflage,
Steve Hackett,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric Dolphy,
Nik Kershaw,
the Association,
Nils Olav,
Susan Cadogan,
Cheater Slicks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Matthew Halsall,
Outsiders,
The Tremeloes,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cowsills,
Brothers Johnson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Au Pairs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Blancmange,
Echospace,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Babytalk,
the Human League,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare,
Scion,
Tears for Fears,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Almond,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Monks,
The Modern Lovers,
Popol Vuh,
Soft Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Eddi Front,
Connie Case,
The Buckinghams,
The Music Machine,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.