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 Georgia and from Manchester.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Index 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harmonia,
AZ,
Pylon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lower 48,
Arcadia,
Tom Boy,
Circle Jerks,
John Foxx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gun Club,
cv313,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Blossom Toes,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Hasil Adkins,
The Monks,
Vainqueur,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Absolute Body Control,
Swans,
The Kinks,
Popol Vuh,
Eric Copeland,
The Pretty Things,
The Fortunes,
Ohio Players,
The Dirtbombs,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mummies,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Slave,
Gang of Four,
The Vogues,
Index,
Theoretical Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Section 25,
Agent Orange,
Sonic Youth,
Silicon Teens,
David Bowie,
The Real Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fad Gadget,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bush Tetras,
Saccharine Trust,
Mission of Burma,
Pet Shop Boys,
The New Christs,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.