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 Indonesia and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 These Immortal Souls to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
Dave Gahan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
UT,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Flag,
Scrapy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pagans,
The Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
The United States of America,
Marvin Gaye,
Sandy B,
D'Angelo,
Schoolly D,
Matthew Bourne,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
Kevin Saunderson,
Moss Icon,
Quantec,
Ituana,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Lakeside,
The New Christs,
Gang Starr,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
EPMD,
Rotary Connection,
DNA,
Model 500,
The Modern Lovers,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Leaves,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rekid,
Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
Crime,
Minutemen,
Excepter,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.