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 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 One Last Wish to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
Model 500,
Sound Behaviour,
U.S. Maple,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warsaw,
The Move,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
Flash Fearless,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
Supertramp,
Jacob Miller,
Mary Jane Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Electric Prunes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
Youth Brigade,
Ituana,
Country Teasers,
Susan Cadogan,
Nico,
Das Ding,
Albert Ayler,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Womack,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pulsallama,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dennis Brown,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agitation Free,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zapp,
Au Pairs,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neu!,
Rufus Thomas,
Visage,
The Martian,
Flipper,
Depeche Mode,
Motorama,
Al Stewart,
Animal Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Angels of Light,
the Normal,
The Mojo Men,
Sällskapet,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.