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 Monaco and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Danielle Patucci to the jazz 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mr. Review,
Infiniti,
The Flesh Eaters,
F. McDonald,
Absolute Body Control,
Chrome,
Angry Samoans,
kango's stein massive,
Roxette,
Public Enemy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Sherman,
Brass Construction,
The Angels of Light,
Public Image Ltd.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Knickerbockers,
Shuggie Otis,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
Das Ding,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terry Callier,
The Move,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Section 25,
Can,
Chris & Cosey,
The Selecter,
10cc,
Jawbox,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
Erasure,
Joe Smooth,
The Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
Ponytail,
The Offenders,
Crooked Eye,
Bronski Beat,
Rufus Thomas,
the Normal,
Ultravox,
Rekid,
Television,
Roxy Music,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.