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 Mozambique and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Pantytec,
8 Eyed Spy,
Prince Buster,
Joy Division,
Moss Icon,
Don Cherry,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Durutti Column,
X-101,
Roger Hodgson,
Theoretical Girls,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
John Lydon,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Half Japanese,
The Black Dice,
Janne Schatter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cymande,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Thompson Twins,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Bizarre Inc.,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
U.S. Maple,
Quantec,
Leonard Cohen,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
The Birthday Party,
Grey Daturas,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Roxy Music,
Agent Orange,
Peter & Gordon,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
Pylon,
CMW,
Aaron Thompson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Human League,
Colin Newman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nik Kershaw,
Pulsallama,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.