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 Kenya and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 ABC to the techno 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wally Richardson,
Index,
T. Rex,
Animal Collective,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Martian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The J.B.'s,
Lyres,
Todd Rundgren,
Fatback Band,
Ultra Naté,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Walker Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang of Four,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott Heron,
Niagra,
Max Romeo,
U.S. Maple,
Roxy Music,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sixth Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camberwell Now,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ronnie Foster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Steve Hackett,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yellowson,
Scientists,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed,
F. McDonald,
Au Pairs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Red Krayola,
The Black Dice,
Lalann,
The Stooges,
the Soft Cell,
Minor Threat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grey Daturas,
D'Angelo,
The Associates,
Quadrant,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Joey Negro,
Metal Thangz,
Urselle,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
Malaria!,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.