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 Haiti and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
The New Christs,
The Toasters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Siglo XX,
Ken Boothe,
Wally Richardson,
Youth Brigade,
Robert Hood,
Loose Ends,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Talk Talk,
Heaven 17,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cal Tjader,
Alice Coltrane,
Gang of Four,
Maurizio,
Excepter,
Jerry's Kids,
Howard Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Urselle,
Joy Division,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
The Birthday Party,
Accadde A,
Electric Prunes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cymande,
Black Sheep,
Maleditus Sound,
The Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amon Düül II,
Cluster,
The Trojans,
Metal Thangz,
Amazonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Blues Magoos,
Derrick May,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Oneida,
Cheater Slicks,
Sugar Minott,
Drexciya,
Lightning Bolt,
Ponytail,
Quantec,
Sarah Menescal,
John Coltrane,
Ituana,
Can,
X-102,
Moby Grape,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Association,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.