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 Georgia and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Gladiators to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Tubeway Army,
Intrusion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The New Christs,
Bluetip,
Soft Machine,
Kas Product,
The Pretty Things,
Ronnie Foster,
Eden Ahbez,
Buzzcocks,
Skaos,
Eddi Front,
Minor Threat,
Mad Mike,
The Gap Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Man Eating Sloth,
Faraquet,
Shoche,
Public Image Ltd.,
JFA,
The Cure,
Eric Copeland,
Archie Shepp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Count Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lungfish,
Drexciya,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yaz,
Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pylon,
Rotary Connection,
The Fuzztones,
Harry Pussy,
Interpol,
La Düsseldorf,
Toni Rubio,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry's Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Nils Olav,
The Evens,
Graham Central Station,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kayak,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bob Dylan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Little Man,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.