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 Saudi Arabia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the techno 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
Pantytec,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
Blossom Toes,
Quando Quango,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
Depeche Mode,
Josef K,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Motions,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
Reagan Youth,
Moss Icon,
Amazonics,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
Reuben Wilson,
Thee Headcoats,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
Skriet,
Nico,
Surgeon,
Funkadelic,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
MDC,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Godley & Creme,
Matthew Halsall,
Parry Music,
B.T. Express,
Ken Boothe,
Scan 7,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tom Boy,
Gang Starr,
Colin Newman,
Kerri Chandler,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Bananas,
The Vogues,
Warsaw,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Brass Construction,
Au Pairs,
The Five Americans,
The Birthday Party,
Matthew Bourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lindisfarne,
Slick Rick,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.