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 San Marino and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Lou Reed 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the funk 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Bang On A Can,
Malaria!,
The Pop Group,
The Slackers,
Black Flag,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
This Heat,
Spoonie Gee,
Absolute Body Control,
Duran Duran,
The Sisters of Mercy,
L. Decosne,
The New Christs,
Moby Grape,
Mars,
The Mojo Men,
Kaleidoscope,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lalo Schifrin,
Carl Craig,
Mo-Dettes,
CMW,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Surgeon,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scrapy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Von Mondo,
10cc,
Radiohead,
The Smiths,
Yusef Lateef,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Y Pants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eli Mardock,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angry Samoans,
LL Cool J,
New Order,
Bobby Sherman,
Livin' Joy,
Alphaville,
Organ,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.