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 Ethiopia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Saccharine Trust,
Stereo Dub,
Gichy Dan,
Brand Nubian,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Sonics,
Section 25,
Cameo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Matthew Bourne,
Marine Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
Soulsonic Force,
Japan,
MC5,
Arthur Verocai,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blake Baxter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eddi Front,
The Techniques,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultra Naté,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
Cheater Slicks,
Quantec,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mad Mike,
Lou Christie,
kango's stein massive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pylon,
Isaac Hayes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Pet Shop Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Livin' Joy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Slick Rick,
The Litter,
Flash Fearless,
Swans,
Minutemen,
Essential Logic,
Icehouse,
Aswad,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.