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 Papua New Guinea 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Hot Snakes,
Zero Boys,
Loose Ends,
Masters at Work,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marine Girls,
Monolake,
The Last Poets,
Index,
Fat Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Althea and Donna,
Eve St. Jones,
Duran Duran,
Sister Nancy,
Warsaw,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Neil Young,
Cal Tjader,
John Coltrane,
Kerri Chandler,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
Quadrant,
Rod Modell,
La Düsseldorf,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suburban Knight,
The Gladiators,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
This Heat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Chris Corsano,
Buzzcocks,
Gang of Four,
The Beau Brummels,
Easy Going,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
Ossler,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
the Germs,
Los Fastidios,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hashim,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Inner City,
The Knickerbockers,
Desert Stars,
Ultravox,
Ten City,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.