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 Morocco and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 The Fuzztones to the grime 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minnie Riperton,
In Retrospect,
Index,
Average White Band,
Janne Schatter,
Aloha Tigers,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
H. Thieme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Howard Jones,
Arcadia,
Ultimate Spinach,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Isaac Hayes,
Surgeon,
Newcleus,
Prince Buster,
Barry Ungar,
Scientists,
Delta 5,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Lightning Bolt,
Susan Cadogan,
The Human League,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Monolake,
Vainqueur,
Lower 48,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The New Christs,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Vladislav Delay,
John Lydon,
Bill Near,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grey Daturas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aural Exciters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wasted Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
Skriet,
Arab on Radar,
The Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.