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 Tanzania and from London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Inner City to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
The Fall,
Youth Brigade,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronan,
Derrick Morgan,
Rapeman,
Althea and Donna,
Kayak,
Sixth Finger,
Prince Buster,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joey Negro,
The Buckinghams,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nik Kershaw,
The New Christs,
The Standells,
Scrapy,
Intrusion,
The Five Americans,
Moss Icon,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Excepter,
Khruangbin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
Lightning Bolt,
Dual Sessions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Livin' Joy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Associates,
The Mummies,
Brand Nubian,
Lakeside,
Hardrive,
The Skatalites,
The United States of America,
The Victims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Thee Headcoats,
Judy Mowatt,
Kerri Chandler,
Rhythm & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Nils Olav,
Matthew Halsall,
Glenn Branca,
Babytalk,
Quantec,
Don Cherry,
Pierre Henry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.