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 Swaziland and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sonics to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlback,
Aswad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Dead Boys,
Siglo XX,
The Mummies,
Bauhaus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Junior Murvin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Brand Nubian,
Slave,
Metal Thangz,
Das Ding,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Red Krayola,
Dennis Brown,
Vladislav Delay,
Rotary Connection,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aural Exciters,
Agitation Free,
Faust,
Blake Baxter,
The Trojans,
Tears for Fears,
Chris & Cosey,
Japan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ken Boothe,
Harry Pussy,
T.S.O.L.,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Sherman,
Subhumans,
The Move,
Bob Dylan,
The Smoke,
Moss Icon,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Joy Division,
cv313,
Ronnie Foster,
Groovy Waters,
Crash Course in Science,
Buzzcocks,
The Human League,
The Slits,
Yazoo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Josef K,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minnie Riperton,
Masters at Work,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.