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 Benin and from London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Glambeats Corp. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
The Last Poets,
Marine Girls,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
Reagan Youth,
Visage,
Minnie Riperton,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Masters at Work,
Eric Dolphy,
Popol Vuh,
Bush Tetras,
Supertramp,
Mr. Review,
The Music Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stereo Dub,
Barbara Tucker,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arcadia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nick Fraelich,
The Standells,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barrington Levy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Inner City,
Jeff Lynne,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Görl,
Talk Talk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David McCallum,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultra Naté,
Lucky Dragons,
Intrusion,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terry Callier,
Television Personalities,
David Axelrod,
The Tremeloes,
Scion,
The Modern Lovers,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABBA,
Black Pus,
Morten Harket,
Von Mondo,
Derrick May,
The Move,
Thee Headcoats,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.