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 Mauritius and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Silicon Teens 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marcia Griffiths,
Subhumans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
F. McDonald,
Joey Negro,
Monks,
Circle Jerks,
The Slits,
Siglo XX,
Eric Copeland,
Patti Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
R.M.O.,
The Young Rascals,
The Smoke,
Wire,
Bad Manners,
Eli Mardock,
Erykah Badu,
New Order,
Jeff Mills,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fuzztones,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Chris & Cosey,
Deakin,
Joyce Sims,
Grandmaster Flash,
Toni Rubio,
Sarah Menescal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Silicon Teens,
Wolf Eyes,
The Stooges,
Bobby Byrd,
Can,
Tim Buckley,
the Slits,
Franke,
The Modern Lovers,
U.S. Maple,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Angry Samoans,
Amazonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Sonic Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Henry Cow,
Ornette Coleman,
cv313,
Piero Umiliani,
Stereo Dub,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.