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 Portugal and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet 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 H. Thieme to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Slave,
MDC,
Yellowson,
Kenny Larkin,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Human League,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
the Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
Unrelated Segments,
Laurel Aitken,
Don Cherry,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drexciya,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Mummies,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris & Cosey,
Soft Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
This Heat,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Fat Boys,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tears for Fears,
Scrapy,
Lucky Dragons,
The Victims,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Janne Schatter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Judy Mowatt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Teasers,
Darondo,
Sparks,
KRS-One,
10cc,
Skaos,
Todd Terry,
Saccharine Trust,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jawbox,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
June of 44,
Byron Stingily,
Ornette Coleman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.