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 Bhutan and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
the Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
UT,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fugs,
Q65,
The Mojo Men,
Camouflage,
Tears for Fears,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skaos,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
June Days,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Görl,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Remains,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
Tom Boy,
Pulsallama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shuggie Otis,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Association,
Schoolly D,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Bourne,
The Litter,
The Gap Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mandrill,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Leonard Cohen,
a-ha,
Q and Not U,
Circle Jerks,
Interpol,
Henry Cow,
Qualms,
The Durutti Column,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
Royal Trux,
Ultravox,
Subhumans,
AZ,
Barbara Tucker,
Nik Kershaw,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
Ornette Coleman,
Jawbox,
Hot Snakes,
The Modern Lovers,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.