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 Albania and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gories to the funk 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Tears for Fears,
Bad Manners,
Patti Smith,
Chrome,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Last Poets,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Associates,
The Five Americans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jacques Brel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nas,
the Slits,
Sixth Finger,
Junior Murvin,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Osbourne,
June of 44,
Pussy Galore,
MC5,
Dead Boys,
Marine Girls,
Country Teasers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
Ice-T,
Marmalade,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Symarip,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scientists,
Altered Images,
Terry Callier,
Soulsonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Niagra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Colin Newman,
Funky Four + One,
Wasted Youth,
the Sonics,
Funkadelic,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare,
Joey Negro,
Vainqueur,
MDC,
Joensuu 1685,
Prince Buster,
Stiv Bators,
Man Parrish,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.