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 Botswana and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 Moody Blues to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Lindisfarne,
Intrusion,
Magazine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jandek,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wire,
Fear,
Godley & Creme,
Parry Music,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swans,
Bauhaus,
The Last Poets,
a-ha,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Wyatt,
Television Personalities,
Bluetip,
Alison Limerick,
Jeff Mills,
The Motions,
Pagans,
Brand Nubian,
Panda Bear,
John Holt,
Trumans Water,
Slick Rick,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Byrd,
Quantec,
Max Romeo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
Cameo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Silicon Teens,
Porter Ricks,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hoover,
The Buckinghams,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Association,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy Collins,
Mad Mike,
Vainqueur,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
Outsiders,
L. Decosne,
Anthony Braxton,
The Martian,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.