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 East Timor and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Minor Threat to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
10cc,
Vainqueur,
Nation of Ulysses,
Max Romeo,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Happenings,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blake Baxter,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Peter & Gordon,
The Grass Roots,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Masters at Work,
Fatback Band,
The Mojo Men,
Nas,
Bobby Sherman,
Neil Young,
Nirvana,
Gang Starr,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
Johnny Clarke,
Tres Demented,
Reuben Wilson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABBA,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Green,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funkadelic,
Rotary Connection,
Derrick Morgan,
Morten Harket,
Pantytec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
The Gladiators,
Marine Girls,
The Sound,
Tim Buckley,
Whodini,
Brothers Johnson,
The Smiths,
Desert Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Beau Brummels,
The Names,
Sandy B,
Bootsy Collins,
Roy Ayers,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.