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 Houston.
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 Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Maleditus Sound to the punk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Faraquet,
Echospace,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dark Day,
The Moleskins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bluetip,
The Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
Todd Rundgren,
The Barracudas,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Sneak,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Accadde A,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DNA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kaleidoscope,
Franke,
Underground Resistance,
Rapeman,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Clarke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Easy Going,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Loose Ends,
Sparks,
Unwound,
The United States of America,
L. Decosne,
The Slackers,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
The Golliwogs,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
Alphaville,
The Victims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marvin Gaye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Angels of Light,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
Bauhaus,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Mills,
Sällskapet,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter & Gordon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
UT,
Liliput,
The Durutti Column,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.