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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Selecter to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Jandek,
The Smoke,
Technova,
Panda Bear,
Dawn Penn,
David Axelrod,
Black Sheep,
Bang On A Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lindisfarne,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sam Rivers,
Loose Ends,
Rosa Yemen,
Ossler,
Surgeon,
Stiv Bators,
Oneida,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Human League,
Judy Mowatt,
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mandrill,
Chris & Cosey,
The Selecter,
Josef K,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Gabor Szabo,
John Foxx,
Interpol,
The Searchers,
Minor Threat,
Soulsonic Force,
The Dirtbombs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lightning Bolt,
The Angels of Light,
Babytalk,
Visage,
Vainqueur,
The Names,
Joe Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
Q65,
The Smiths,
The Monochrome Set,
Electric Prunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Funky Four + One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.