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 Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Velvet Underground to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Pop Group,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Foxx,
Cameo,
ABC,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warsaw,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Dolphy,
Kayak,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gap Band,
Bad Manners,
Inner City,
The Smoke,
Lakeside,
Moby Grape,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chris & Cosey,
Flipper,
the Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fugazi,
The Saints,
Todd Rundgren,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonic Youth,
Interpol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faust,
The Mummies,
Roxette,
Ronnie Foster,
Ten City,
Deadbeat,
Brothers Johnson,
Josef K,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joensuu 1685,
David Bowie,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Almond,
the Slits,
Echospace,
Alison Limerick,
DNA,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Junior Murvin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tres Demented,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nils Olav,
Symarip,
cv313,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Accadde A,
MDC,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.