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 Kazakhstan and from Stockholm.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Stereo Dub to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
Glambeats Corp.,
Morten Harket,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dawn Penn,
Drexciya,
Cecil Taylor,
Marvin Gaye,
Skriet,
Mars,
Kayak,
The Wake,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeff Mills,
Groovy Waters,
Panda Bear,
Cymande,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome,
The Last Poets,
Con Funk Shun,
Althea and Donna,
Half Japanese,
Malaria!,
Lindisfarne,
Josef K,
Pagans,
The Kinks,
Dave Gahan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
Rod Modell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flipper,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
James White and The Blacks,
The Velvet Underground,
Don Cherry,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
K-Klass,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jandek,
the Swans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Howard Jones,
Robert Hood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.