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 Malawi and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 Max Romeo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wire,
Fatback Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Ponytail,
Nils Olav,
Fela Kuti,
Suicide,
Reagan Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Gun Club,
Bauhaus,
DNA,
Tres Demented,
Skriet,
Sex Pistols,
Young Marble Giants,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalann,
The Fall,
Panda Bear,
Marine Girls,
John Cale,
Prince Buster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boz Scaggs,
Theoretical Girls,
The Associates,
Ken Boothe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gang of Four,
Basic Channel,
the Association,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Aloha Tigers,
EPMD,
OOIOO,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sonics,
The Leaves,
The Skatalites,
Roxy Music,
Cybotron,
Henry Cow,
Procol Harum,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Starr,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks,
Youth Brigade,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.