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 Malawi and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
48th St. Collective,
Fugazi,
KRS-One,
Mantronix,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Absolute Body Control,
MC5,
Au Pairs,
The Doors,
Mo-Dettes,
Tom Boy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Pagans,
The Grass Roots,
OOIOO,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blancmange,
The Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cluster,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Womack,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
Nick Fraelich,
Rod Modell,
Dual Sessions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reuben Wilson,
Crime,
Japan,
Faraquet,
Lucky Dragons,
Delta 5,
Junior Murvin,
Black Flag,
Sister Nancy,
Fad Gadget,
Agitation Free,
Public Enemy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cramps,
Das Ding,
Fela Kuti,
Toni Rubio,
Jacques Brel,
Rufus Thomas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eden Ahbez,
Neu!,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
Grey Daturas,
Joey Negro,
Television,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.