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 India and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sandy B to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Wyatt,
Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABC,
Graham Central Station,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Audionom,
Section 25,
Fluxion,
Zapp,
The Angels of Light,
Thompson Twins,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Von Mondo,
The Doors,
The Golliwogs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eden Ahbez,
Eurythmics,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ice-T,
L. Decosne,
Minny Pops,
Ultravox,
Cameo,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cramps,
Icehouse,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chrome,
Cluster,
The Toasters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Sheep,
The Dead C,
The Electric Prunes,
Maurizio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Move,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
The United States of America,
Interpol,
The Cowsills,
Gregory Isaacs,
Model 500,
Mo-Dettes,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.