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 Hungary 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Germs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Trojans,
Supertramp,
The Red Krayola,
The Five Americans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pulsallama,
Essential Logic,
Infiniti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scratch Acid,
Reagan Youth,
The Motions,
The Kinks,
Vladislav Delay,
Kenny Larkin,
The Black Dice,
Jandek,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
Maleditus Sound,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Fluxion,
David Axelrod,
Japan,
Drexciya,
Public Enemy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Girls At Our Best!,
David Bowie,
Angry Samoans,
The Blackbyrds,
Mo-Dettes,
Gong,
Clear Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eli Mardock,
The Knickerbockers,
Monolake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter,
Half Japanese,
Scion,
Royal Trux,
Minny Pops,
Blancmange,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
Alison Limerick,
Brass Construction,
Graham Central Station,
Hot Snakes,
Skarface,
Mandrill,
Arthur Verocai,
The Flesh Eaters,
Underground Resistance,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.