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 South Sudan and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New Order to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Half Japanese,
Harry Pussy,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brass Construction,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick Morgan,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Quantec,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Slits,
Fugazi,
The J.B.'s,
Livin' Joy,
Oblivians,
Yaz,
Masters at Work,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reagan Youth,
Pagans,
The Cramps,
Bobby Sherman,
Aaron Thompson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Minutemen,
The Raincoats,
Sound Behaviour,
Isaac Hayes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mantronix,
Joy Division,
Jacques Brel,
Mr. Review,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
Black Flag,
Yusef Lateef,
The Grass Roots,
Icehouse,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
Lucky Dragons,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
Supertramp,
The Mojo Men,
New Age Steppers,
Pantaleimon,
Marc Almond,
Tommy Roe,
Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Christie,
Slick Rick,
June of 44,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cymande,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chrome,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.