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 Belgium and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Crispy Ambulance to the grunge 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Deepchord,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
Zero Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Evens,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cramps,
The Stooges,
Boredoms,
Minnie Riperton,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Amon Düül II,
Sixth Finger,
Pulsallama,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
Section 25,
DJ Style,
June of 44,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Copeland,
Negative Approach,
Charles Mingus,
Neil Young,
Pere Ubu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Urselle,
Scott Walker,
Howard Jones,
Connie Case,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
Inner City,
Saccharine Trust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Star Department,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fall,
Funkadelic,
Mark Hollis,
The Dead C,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ice-T,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
AZ,
Josef K,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.