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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Brothers Johnson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Brick,
Altered Images,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hot Snakes,
Amon Düül II,
The Young Rascals,
Pantytec,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mojo Men,
Urselle,
Graham Central Station,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
Lindisfarne,
kango's stein massive,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
a-ha,
Kurtis Blow,
The Music Machine,
Television Personalities,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Wasted Youth,
Brass Construction,
DJ Style,
The Residents,
The Selecter,
Fatback Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
AZ,
The Invisible,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Lydon,
Fluxion,
World's Most,
the Soft Cell,
Mantronix,
The Techniques,
Tommy Roe,
H. Thieme,
The Litter,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grey Daturas,
Neu!,
Spoonie Gee,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roxy Music,
The Gun Club,
Terrestrial Tones,
Al Stewart,
Jandek,
Organ,
Curtis Mayfield,
Youth Brigade,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.