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 Marshall Islands and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin 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 kango's stein massive to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lightning Bolt,
Das Ding,
The Move,
The Black Dice,
Kevin Saunderson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alton Ellis,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker,
Talk Talk,
Desert Stars,
Quando Quango,
ABC,
Roger Hodgson,
Suicide,
the Normal,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
The Knickerbockers,
Dark Day,
Jacques Brel,
The Cowsills,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Subhumans,
The Gun Club,
Whodini,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quantec,
The Grass Roots,
Ornette Coleman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rufus Thomas,
Public Enemy,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.