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 Solomon Islands and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tomorrow to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Loose Ends,
The Victims,
The Neon Judgement,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
Smog,
Skaos,
Brand Nubian,
The Zeros,
Index,
Sandy B,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sight & Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mars,
Fluxion,
Harry Pussy,
Faust,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
Black Flag,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ituana,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Organ,
Soft Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neu!,
The Angels of Light,
Accadde A,
Rufus Thomas,
The Real Kids,
Tears for Fears,
Slick Rick,
Black Sheep,
Alphaville,
The Trojans,
DJ Sneak,
JFA,
the Soft Cell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moebius,
Fat Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Susan Cadogan,
Monolake,
Dual Sessions,
Cybotron,
The Move,
Jacob Miller,
The Invisible,
Zero Boys,
New Order,
Alison Limerick,
Basic Channel,
Model 500,
Essential Logic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.