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 Cape Verde 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ken Boothe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Fraelich,
Al Stewart,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marc Almond,
Buzzcocks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blossom Toes,
Grauzone,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
kango's stein massive,
Dawn Penn,
Roger Hodgson,
Blake Baxter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Eric Copeland,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tim Buckley,
Moby Grape,
Depeche Mode,
Fear,
Gong,
Thompson Twins,
Slave,
Monks,
The Five Americans,
Ultra Naté,
Visage,
Brass Construction,
Archie Shepp,
Marvin Gaye,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crash Course in Science,
The Modern Lovers,
Cal Tjader,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Franke,
Brick,
Dennis Brown,
Quadrant,
One Last Wish,
Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Ludus,
The Wake,
Khruangbin,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.