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 Seychelles and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Pus 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brothers Johnson,
Pierre Henry,
Severed Heads,
Stetsasonic,
Reuben Wilson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
E-Dancer,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Swans,
Nils Olav,
Qualms,
New Order,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants,
Ice-T,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Bananas,
JFA,
Pere Ubu,
Skriet,
The Dead C,
Accadde A,
Chris & Cosey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Moon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quadrant,
Essential Logic,
Outsiders,
Country Teasers,
The Tremeloes,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
The Black Dice,
Cybotron,
Magazine,
ABBA,
Hasil Adkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Angry Samoans,
Michelle Simonal,
Joe Smooth,
The Cramps,
Joyce Sims,
June Days,
The Walker Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Average White Band,
H. Thieme,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
Morten Harket,
The Evens,
Niagra,
David McCallum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.