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 Nauru and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar 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 Surgeon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oblivians,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yaz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deadbeat,
Nik Kershaw,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
PIL,
Qualms,
Dual Sessions,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bronski Beat,
Zapp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scan 7,
Minny Pops,
Dave Gahan,
The Victims,
Arcadia,
Gang Green,
Little Man,
Pere Ubu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Lalann,
Camouflage,
Skarface,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
Hasil Adkins,
the Association,
Spandau Ballet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
a-ha,
Agitation Free,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eden Ahbez,
Infiniti,
Pulsallama,
Public Enemy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Doors,
The Offenders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Vogues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Lower 48,
Roxette,
Marc Almond,
Pantaleimon,
ABC,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.