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 Chad and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the rock 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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Aloha Tigers,
Japan,
Cluster,
Soul II Soul,
Terry Callier,
Gabor Szabo,
Magma,
Sight & Sound,
The Human League,
The Slits,
Malaria!,
Yaz,
The Mummies,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stereo Dub,
Hot Snakes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young,
Alphaville,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minor Threat,
The Gap Band,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
These Immortal Souls,
The Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Wyatt,
EPMD,
the Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Q65,
Scratch Acid,
Alice Coltrane,
Crime,
Yellowson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warsaw,
Cameo,
Ultra Naté,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
Brick,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slick Rick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Byrd,
Siglo XX,
The Tremeloes,
The American Breed,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.