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 Estonia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Matthew Halsall to the punk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Panda Bear,
Hashim,
Make Up,
Sun Ra,
Dark Day,
Josef K,
Intrusion,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Mission of Burma,
Wally Richardson,
The Dirtbombs,
Marmalade,
Country Teasers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pantytec,
Fat Boys,
Junior Murvin,
The Fortunes,
Smog,
Ronan,
Can,
Oblivians,
The Names,
The Gladiators,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
Barry Ungar,
Connie Case,
Dual Sessions,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Bowie,
The Fuzztones,
Unwound,
Davy DMX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
Urselle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Todd Rundgren,
Surgeon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
ABBA,
Icehouse,
Erasure,
The Birthday Party,
cv313,
The J.B.'s,
Judy Mowatt,
Popol Vuh,
Neu!,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.