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 Gambia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gian Franco Pienzio 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boz Scaggs,
A Certain Ratio,
Roxette,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Carl Craig,
EPMD,
Moby Grape,
The Birthday Party,
Y Pants,
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
Alphaville,
Mo-Dettes,
Goldenarms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mark Hollis,
MDC,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cluster,
Reuben Wilson,
Urselle,
The Moody Blues,
Oneida,
Delon & Dalcan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
Delta 5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ossler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skarface,
Scientists,
Au Pairs,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Nico,
Prince Buster,
B.T. Express,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grey Daturas,
Aaron Thompson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Skatalites,
Swell Maps,
The Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Charles Mingus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Country Teasers,
Lightning Bolt,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boogie Down Productions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Juan Atkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.