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 Colombia and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Halifax.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Television to the electroclash 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
The Angels of Light,
Gregory Isaacs,
World's Most,
Rotary Connection,
Organ,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Ken Boothe,
Anakelly,
Judy Mowatt,
La Düsseldorf,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Toni Rubio,
Roger Hodgson,
Adolescents,
Amazonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Heaven 17,
Terry Callier,
Desert Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
Sandy B,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cowsills,
Swell Maps,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mission of Burma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Funkadelic,
Piero Umiliani,
Half Japanese,
UT,
Hashim,
Television Personalities,
Aloha Tigers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
Surgeon,
The Stooges,
The Standells,
Gang Starr,
Japan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.