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 San Marino and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anakelly to the dance 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Inner City,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grey Daturas,
The Remains,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mantronix,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
A Certain Ratio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scan 7,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Desert Stars,
David McCallum,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
Sparks,
Ituana,
Q65,
Brand Nubian,
Boz Scaggs,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Trojans,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Dave Clark Five,
One Last Wish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kenny Larkin,
Barrington Levy,
Suicide,
Shuggie Otis,
Swans,
Fluxion,
Pere Ubu,
Bang On A Can,
Camberwell Now,
Bush Tetras,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Rekid,
David Axelrod,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
Erykah Badu,
Jesper Dahlback,
LL Cool J,
Nirvana,
The Invisible,
The Evens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wings,
Max Romeo,
Hot Snakes,
Ronan,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.