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 Chile and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Icehouse to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Peter and Kerry,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Grass Roots,
The Monks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Frankie Knuckles,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Maurizio,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed,
Bush Tetras,
John Holt,
Hashim,
The Offenders,
The Busters,
Y Pants,
John Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
Colin Newman,
Eddi Front,
The Monochrome Set,
Scott Walker,
Connie Case,
Pagans,
Reuben Wilson,
Tom Boy,
Camberwell Now,
Suburban Knight,
Quando Quango,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Magazine,
Ohio Players,
Brothers Johnson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Second Layer,
Echospace,
Chris & Cosey,
Toni Rubio,
Wasted Youth,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slave,
The Kinks,
Shuggie Otis,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.