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 Pakistan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Depeche Mode to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Silicon Teens,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang On A Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Juan Atkins,
a-ha,
Barrington Levy,
The Dirtbombs,
Faust,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick May,
Subhumans,
DJ Sneak,
Chris & Cosey,
Rosa Yemen,
Colin Newman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Toasters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Minor Threat,
Sarah Menescal,
Massinfluence,
Chris Corsano,
Country Teasers,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Style,
X-102,
Yaz,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacques Brel,
D'Angelo,
Anakelly,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultravox,
The Buckinghams,
Loose Ends,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Trumans Water,
The Sonics,
David Bowie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funkadelic,
the Germs,
Sam Rivers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Duran Duran,
Pole,
Prince Buster,
Monolake,
Talk Talk,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.