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 New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 L. Decosne to the grime 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Joe Finger,
The Barracudas,
Susan Cadogan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Maleditus Sound,
Infiniti,
Public Image Ltd.,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Normal,
Mandrill,
Derrick May,
Bauhaus,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deakin,
Angry Samoans,
Neu!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Avey Tare,
The Neon Judgement,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Move,
Audionom,
the Sonics,
Zapp,
Rod Modell,
Warsaw,
Lungfish,
Bobby Sherman,
The New Christs,
The Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Joyce Sims,
Pussy Galore,
David Bowie,
World's Most,
Laurel Aitken,
Rotary Connection,
Black Moon,
John Foxx,
Reagan Youth,
Outsiders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hashim,
John Lydon,
Half Japanese,
Skarface,
The Kinks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glenn Branca,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
A Certain Ratio,
Agitation Free,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.