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 Angola and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soft Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Motorama,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Negative Approach,
Quando Quango,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wally Richardson,
Grey Daturas,
Scan 7,
Animal Collective,
Minny Pops,
Funkadelic,
Boredoms,
Ten City,
The Cramps,
Zapp,
Bill Near,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neu!,
Reagan Youth,
AZ,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
Q65,
Hot Snakes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Godley & Creme,
Wolf Eyes,
The Names,
Underground Resistance,
Los Fastidios,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sällskapet,
Bang On A Can,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
Circle Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Zeros,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Smooth,
The Gladiators,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
The Walker Brothers,
10cc,
Echospace,
Erykah Badu,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.