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 Netherlands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Graham Central Station to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Dave Gahan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Second Layer,
The Saints,
Siglo XX,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bad Manners,
Amon Düül,
Make Up,
Godley & Creme,
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
Metal Thangz,
Soft Machine,
Ohio Players,
Tres Demented,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heaven 17,
David Bowie,
The Slits,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Max Romeo,
Mandrill,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
D'Angelo,
DJ Style,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mark Hollis,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Iggy Pop,
Ossler,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
Lungfish,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
Yaz,
Crash Course in Science,
Jawbox,
Zapp,
Lou Christie,
Eric Copeland,
Ornette Coleman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Neil Young,
the Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Funky Four + One,
Country Teasers,
World's Most,
Slave,
Organ,
Soul Sonic Force,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
Theoretical Girls,
In Retrospect,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.