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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Todd Terry to the jazz 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ituana,
David McCallum,
Faraquet,
Second Layer,
The Slits,
Albert Ayler,
The Grass Roots,
The Toasters,
E-Dancer,
Lindisfarne,
Goldenarms,
Blossom Toes,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Womack,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wire,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Al Stewart,
Negative Approach,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Real Kids,
X-102,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sparks,
Dead Boys,
FM Einheit,
A Certain Ratio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Fraelich,
Iggy Pop,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cramps,
China Crisis,
48th St. Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Motorama,
Cameo,
Black Sheep,
Eddi Front,
Angry Samoans,
Rosa Yemen,
Neil Young,
Flipper,
Y Pants,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lakeside,
Kas Product,
Althea and Donna,
Moebius,
T. Rex,
Arab on Radar,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.