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 Lebanon and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Oblivians to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Graham Central Station,
Kevin Saunderson,
Erasure,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sound,
Suicide,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Das Ding,
The Move,
Liliput,
The Saints,
Steve Hackett,
The Birthday Party,
Junior Murvin,
Babytalk,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
Ornette Coleman,
Dual Sessions,
Siglo XX,
Thee Headcoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Max Romeo,
The Invisible,
Harry Pussy,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Khruangbin,
Marvin Gaye,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
Radiohead,
Joe Finger,
The Grass Roots,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Massinfluence,
New York Dolls,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül,
Sarah Menescal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
Piero Umiliani,
F. McDonald,
Shuggie Otis,
Flash Fearless,
Public Enemy,
cv313,
Jeff Mills,
L. Decosne,
Mo-Dettes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Freddie Wadling,
Essential Logic,
The Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tres Demented,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.