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 Marshall Islands and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 The Tremeloes 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Theoretical Girls,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeff Lynne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blancmange,
Echospace,
The Martian,
The Offenders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Loose Ends,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mummies,
Fluxion,
Franke,
Wally Richardson,
Brass Construction,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Bar-Kays,
Michelle Simonal,
The Golliwogs,
Crash Course in Science,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Los Fastidios,
Al Stewart,
Roy Ayers,
Letta Mbulu,
Talk Talk,
Gang of Four,
The Saints,
Gang Green,
Radiohead,
Boredoms,
Todd Terry,
Lower 48,
Qualms,
Fat Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Velvet Underground,
Anthony Braxton,
Drexciya,
Duran Duran,
Simply Red,
Smog,
The Moleskins,
Youth Brigade,
Clear Light,
Joe Finger,
Peter & Gordon,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.