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 India and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the electroclash 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Minutemen,
Wasted Youth,
Wings,
Index,
Danielle Patucci,
Minor Threat,
R.M.O.,
Nico,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Don Cherry,
Main Source,
Aural Exciters,
cv313,
Pulsallama,
Lower 48,
Sun City Girls,
Loose Ends,
Y Pants,
Gichy Dan,
CMW,
Deepchord,
MDC,
Rites of Spring,
Sly & The Family Stone,
kango's stein massive,
Visage,
The Index,
Franke,
The United States of America,
China Crisis,
a-ha,
Pantytec,
KRS-One,
Pagans,
John Lydon,
The Invisible,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun Ra,
the Human League,
Max Romeo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Skarface,
Mantronix,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scientists,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
Hoover,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Count Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.