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 Romania and from Winnipeg.
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 Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Real Kids to the rock 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sparks,
Ice-T,
The Leaves,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chrome,
Unrelated Segments,
Zero Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Mark Hollis,
La Düsseldorf,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rufus Thomas,
Michelle Simonal,
Roxy Music,
James White and The Blacks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Arthur Verocai,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
Arab on Radar,
Eve St. Jones,
Quando Quango,
Danielle Patucci,
Make Up,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Raincoats,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads,
One Last Wish,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Soft Cell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
World's Most,
Tears for Fears,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Von Mondo,
Jeff Mills,
The Electric Prunes,
Alphaville,
Warren Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sixth Finger,
Easy Going,
The Associates,
Minnie Riperton,
Icehouse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Slave,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yazoo,
The Standells,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Agitation Free,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.