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 Guatemala 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Second Layer to the funk 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Gichy Dan,
Josef K,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
B.T. Express,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mummies,
Aaron Thompson,
Joey Negro,
Alton Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
48th St. Collective,
T. Rex,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
The Invisible,
Goldenarms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gong,
Boredoms,
A Certain Ratio,
Panda Bear,
Second Layer,
Deepchord,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Index,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Soft Cell,
X-102,
Brick,
Banda Bassotti,
Blancmange,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Maleditus Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Searchers,
Suicide,
Pussy Galore,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
Juan Atkins,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
Youth Brigade,
Sound Behaviour,
Lebanon Hanover,
Parry Music,
The Offenders,
the Normal,
Derrick May,
Minor Threat,
Quantec,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siglo XX,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Isaac Hayes,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.