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 Ukraine and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
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 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 Victims to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
L. Decosne,
Pulsallama,
The Mummies,
New Order,
Make Up,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
Skaos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Connie Case,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Clear Light,
Brass Construction,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
kango's stein massive,
T.S.O.L.,
Jawbox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thee Headcoats,
Heaven 17,
Thompson Twins,
The Happenings,
Wings,
Piero Umiliani,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Animal Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Eddi Front,
Crispy Ambulance,
Vainqueur,
Stiv Bators,
The Detroit Cobras,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fluxion,
Soulsonic Force,
The Real Kids,
Gang of Four,
The Monochrome Set,
Symarip,
Bob Dylan,
Niagra,
Soul II Soul,
The Barracudas,
Section 25,
Delta 5,
Harpers Bizarre,
MC5,
Dark Day,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pole,
Arthur Verocai,
Trumans Water,
the Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Aswad,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.