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 Salvador.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Toasters to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Quantec,
Sam Rivers,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
New Order,
Nico,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Teasers,
Ossler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Television,
Darondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Urselle,
The Black Dice,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slick Rick,
Curtis Mayfield,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Technova,
The Litter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lee Hazlewood,
Infiniti,
Glenn Branca,
Pere Ubu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Zero Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Negative Approach,
Skarface,
The Kinks,
John Lydon,
Man Parrish,
Soulsonic Force,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
These Immortal Souls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharoah Sanders,
Babytalk,
Barry Ungar,
Joy Division,
Judy Mowatt,
Peter and Kerry,
Guru Guru,
Alison Limerick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.