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 Honduras and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
David McCallum,
The Five Americans,
X-102,
Groovy Waters,
Bronski Beat,
Tom Boy,
Brick,
The Fuzztones,
Barbara Tucker,
Cybotron,
The Fall,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
Dead Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Stetsasonic,
Japan,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun City Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Quantec,
The Standells,
The Slits,
Quando Quango,
Howard Jones,
The Human League,
Cecil Taylor,
Unwound,
Electric Prunes,
Colin Newman,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Can,
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
the Soft Cell,
Pylon,
June of 44,
The Mummies,
Ohio Players,
Carl Craig,
Circle Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Minny Pops,
Leonard Cohen,
The Index,
Sarah Menescal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vainqueur,
Clear Light,
Liliput,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
Radiohead,
Cluster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
The United States of America,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.