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 Marshall Islands and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the techno 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Lindisfarne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Moss Icon,
Fela Kuti,
The Martian,
John Cale,
Hashim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Copeland,
Excepter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Deakin,
Rakim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
The New Christs,
Vladislav Delay,
Fatback Band,
CMW,
Byron Stingily,
Carl Craig,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camouflage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gong,
Kenny Larkin,
The Evens,
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick Morgan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
ABBA,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends,
A Certain Ratio,
Unwound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Peter & Gordon,
Reagan Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Royal Trux,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Misunderstood,
Janne Schatter,
Jeff Mills,
The Fugs,
Rites of Spring,
Soulsonic Force,
Essential Logic,
cv313,
Throbbing Gristle,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Television Personalities,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.