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 Norway and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Y Pants to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nik Kershaw,
Shoche,
Rapeman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Khruangbin,
The Music Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angry Samoans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Basic Channel,
DNA,
X-101,
Lucky Dragons,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABC,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moebius,
The Slits,
Fluxion,
Eden Ahbez,
Howard Jones,
Joe Smooth,
AZ,
Quantec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Count Five,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yazoo,
The Fuzztones,
Yusef Lateef,
World's Most,
Pagans,
Hardrive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Swell Maps,
Zero Boys,
The Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Prince Buster,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Raincoats,
The Grass Roots,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Sherman,
Index,
the Sonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alton Ellis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Carl Craig,
Robert Görl,
The Saints,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.