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 Uruguay and from Bremen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the grime 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller,
the Sonics,
Monks,
Bluetip,
Byron Stingily,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Desert Stars,
ABBA,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cybotron,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fuzztones,
Jacques Brel,
Das Ding,
Josef K,
Anakelly,
Cluster,
Saccharine Trust,
Piero Umiliani,
Pussy Galore,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Victims,
Al Stewart,
Pere Ubu,
Rod Modell,
The Names,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultravox,
The Busters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rosa Yemen,
Lalann,
Camouflage,
Amazonics,
New Age Steppers,
The Pop Group,
Kerrie Biddell,
Negative Approach,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shoche,
Youth Brigade,
Mad Mike,
the Germs,
Nik Kershaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stetsasonic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.