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 Azerbaijan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cure to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Görl,
Sister Nancy,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sun Ra,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang of Four,
Rapeman,
The United States of America,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pagans,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare,
In Retrospect,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Chris Corsano,
Cheater Slicks,
F. McDonald,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fall,
Aural Exciters,
Parry Music,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric Copeland,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Beau Brummels,
Deadbeat,
Michelle Simonal,
Freddie Wadling,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
New Order,
Jesper Dahlback,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Grass Roots,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pere Ubu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
Moebius,
the Slits,
Sixth Finger,
Clear Light,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fugs,
Pierre Henry,
One Last Wish,
Yaz,
Letta Mbulu,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Moon,
Buzzcocks,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.