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 Libya and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Iggy Pop,
The Martian,
The Searchers,
Motorama,
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New Order,
Joy Division,
Terrestrial Tones,
Organ,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
Buzzcocks,
Bad Manners,
Robert Hood,
Japan,
Marc Almond,
Swans,
Pulsallama,
Morten Harket,
Tim Buckley,
Graham Central Station,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub,
H. Thieme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Victims,
The Kinks,
Technova,
Peter and Kerry,
Zero Boys,
Young Marble Giants,
Aswad,
Matthew Halsall,
Laurel Aitken,
Barrington Levy,
Monolake,
The Grass Roots,
Alison Limerick,
Albert Ayler,
Niagra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bronski Beat,
Easy Going,
Bush Tetras,
Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.