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 Bolivia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 Glambeats Corp. to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Yusef Lateef,
Zero Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
Swans,
Harry Pussy,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Clarke,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Starr,
Ituana,
Little Man,
Janne Schatter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Divine Comedy,
Inner City,
Fear,
Wolf Eyes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soft Machine,
The Star Department,
Al Stewart,
Bizarre Inc.,
Model 500,
Sun Ra,
Wire,
Soulsonic Force,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
The Selecter,
Funkadelic,
The Standells,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül II,
The Zeros,
China Crisis,
Oneida,
The Motions,
Howard Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
New Age Steppers,
Connie Case,
Nas,
Nirvana,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Names,
CMW,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nico,
Fluxion,
Surgeon,
The Leaves,
Panda Bear,
B.T. Express,
Urselle,
Colin Newman,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.