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 Vietnam and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 guitar 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 Soul Sonic Force to the jazz 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Near,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
Alice Coltrane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Von Mondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Banda Bassotti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
Panda Bear,
Kayak,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Audionom,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Susan Cadogan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
K-Klass,
Bad Manners,
Skaos,
Harpers Bizarre,
Groovy Waters,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
10cc,
The Associates,
Unwound,
Blossom Toes,
Joe Finger,
Swans,
The Offenders,
Gichy Dan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yaz,
Stereo Dub,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
Porter Ricks,
Fad Gadget,
Erykah Badu,
Boz Scaggs,
Nirvana,
Aural Exciters,
Ohio Players,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The United States of America,
Jerry's Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Anakelly,
Janne Schatter,
Tomorrow,
Maurizio,
The Fugs,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.