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 Finland and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the jazz 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Heaven 17,
Nirvana,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Trumans Water,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Shoche,
Crash Course in Science,
10cc,
Visage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neu!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vainqueur,
the Swans,
Crime,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harmonia,
The Cramps,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Alison Limerick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Faust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Knickerbockers,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Stooges,
David Axelrod,
Bush Tetras,
Siglo XX,
Davy DMX,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
Magazine,
Amazonics,
Cluster,
Excepter,
Echospace,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blancmange,
Dennis Brown,
Grey Daturas,
Lyres,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott Heron,
The New Christs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
Man Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unwound,
Bronski Beat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Supertramp,
Slave,
Urselle,
Marvin Gaye,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.