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 Andorra and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rosa Yemen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Chocolate Watch Band,
PIL,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Detroit Cobras,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Tremeloes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pylon,
Todd Rundgren,
Yaz,
Kayak,
Qualms,
Glenn Branca,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
UT,
The Black Dice,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Copeland,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Starr,
Nas,
R.M.O.,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Tom Boy,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Knickerbockers,
Dennis Brown,
Chrome,
Robert Hood,
Symarip,
The Gun Club,
DJ Sneak,
Fat Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ronan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Second Layer,
The Velvet Underground,
Agitation Free,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faraquet,
Siglo XX,
Von Mondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Teasers,
Japan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amazonics,
Monks,
Jacob Miller,
kango's stein massive,
Schoolly D,
The Smoke,
The United States of America,
EPMD,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.