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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer 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 Lou Christie to the techno 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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Erykah Badu,
Glenn Branca,
Marvin Gaye,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kerri Chandler,
10cc,
Bauhaus,
Grey Daturas,
The American Breed,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Bobby Byrd,
Jacques Brel,
Peter & Gordon,
a-ha,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxette,
Morten Harket,
Connie Case,
Tim Buckley,
Swans,
The Techniques,
Pylon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stockholm Monsters,
UT,
Television,
Visage,
Deadbeat,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
ABC,
Q and Not U,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Television Personalities,
Mr. Review,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swell Maps,
Darondo,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Invisible,
the Slits,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Kinks,
L. Decosne,
Minnie Riperton,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ossler,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Bananas,
Susan Cadogan,
Sandy B,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.