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 Chad and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Eddi Front to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
Bootsy Collins,
Archie Shepp,
Loose Ends,
Pylon,
Johnny Clarke,
Charles Mingus,
Infiniti,
10cc,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Barracudas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
AZ,
Janne Schatter,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Michelle Simonal,
Average White Band,
Section 25,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
Derrick May,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Reagan Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Half Japanese,
Grey Daturas,
The Fall,
Make Up,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Angels of Light,
Unwound,
Sam Rivers,
Danielle Patucci,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Nico,
Simply Red,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Inner City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Associates,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Doors,
Arthur Verocai,
Motorama,
Severed Heads,
Television Personalities,
Arcadia,
The Names,
Nas,
DNA,
E-Dancer,
One Last Wish,
Reuben Wilson,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.