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 Barbados and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Bizarre Inc.,
Max Romeo,
Los Fastidios,
the Soft Cell,
Little Man,
The Birthday Party,
Eden Ahbez,
Rod Modell,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
Cecil Taylor,
Nirvana,
Bill Near,
Index,
Metal Thangz,
Matthew Bourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ohio Players,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
Danielle Patucci,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Divine Comedy,
Arcadia,
Scientists,
The Smiths,
Carl Craig,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dual Sessions,
Yaz,
Adolescents,
Joe Smooth,
the Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls,
Skarface,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Josef K,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-101,
Mo-Dettes,
The Pretty Things,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Patti Smith,
Second Layer,
Marc Almond,
Skaos,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Slave,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.