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 Senegal 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 H. Thieme 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Popol Vuh,
Ponytail,
Arcadia,
The Gladiators,
Fela Kuti,
Kerri Chandler,
Morten Harket,
Alison Limerick,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass,
Livin' Joy,
Con Funk Shun,
Kaleidoscope,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Peter and Kerry,
Dave Gahan,
Donny Hathaway,
Das Ding,
Soft Cell,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
The Fall,
The Music Machine,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxette,
Fad Gadget,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
The Selecter,
Goldenarms,
John Holt,
Camouflage,
Ten City,
Hoover,
David Bowie,
Crime,
Freddie Wadling,
Minny Pops,
DJ Style,
Colin Newman,
Davy DMX,
Liliput,
Deakin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stereo Dub,
The Durutti Column,
The Dead C,
Joey Negro,
Don Cherry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Quantec,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
Black Flag,
Average White Band,
Altered Images,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.