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 Greece and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Smiths to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arcadia,
Kurtis Blow,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Blossom Toes,
Black Sheep,
Parry Music,
F. McDonald,
Amon Düül II,
The Remains,
Stetsasonic,
Rotary Connection,
Howard Jones,
June of 44,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Essential Logic,
Iggy Pop,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Divine Comedy,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Scrapy,
X-102,
China Crisis,
The Monochrome Set,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Near,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Colin Newman,
Minutemen,
The United States of America,
Tommy Roe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Stooges,
Average White Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Morten Harket,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Urselle,
Trumans Water,
Lalo Schifrin,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Yellowson,
Thompson Twins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Severed Heads,
Skarface,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.