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 Ecuador and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Reuben Wilson to the crunk 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Kaleidoscope,
The Blackbyrds,
Nik Kershaw,
Liliput,
Morten Harket,
Underground Resistance,
Hashim,
Colin Newman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Infiniti,
Blossom Toes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oneida,
Connie Case,
Severed Heads,
Davy DMX,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Quando Quango,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Joey Negro,
Boogie Down Productions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Todd Terry,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Sherman,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed,
Eurythmics,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terrestrial Tones,
Accadde A,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric Dolphy,
Easy Going,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Wyatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
Quadrant,
Cymande,
The Names,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.