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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 Gang Gang Dance to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Pere Ubu,
Arthur Verocai,
Wire,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Offenders,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
the Soft Cell,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Smoke,
48th St. Collective,
Gichy Dan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mummies,
Max Romeo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
Half Japanese,
China Crisis,
The Neon Judgement,
Mandrill,
Kerri Chandler,
Pylon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aaron Thompson,
X-102,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lee Hazlewood,
L. Decosne,
Sonic Youth,
Inner City,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Skarface,
The Gun Club,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
PIL,
Reuben Wilson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rod Modell,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minutemen,
cv313,
Average White Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Boredoms,
Bobby Byrd,
Joe Finger,
Black Bananas,
Isaac Hayes,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Michelle Simonal,
A Certain Ratio,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.