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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DJ Sneak to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Moody Blues,
Blake Baxter,
David McCallum,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Association,
Soul II Soul,
Wasted Youth,
The Cramps,
Laurel Aitken,
Skaos,
Suburban Knight,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wire,
The Five Americans,
Terry Callier,
Underground Resistance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Womack,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantytec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun City Girls,
Rapeman,
The Kinks,
Delta 5,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mojo Men,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
Second Layer,
Slick Rick,
Unwound,
LL Cool J,
Dawn Penn,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pulsallama,
Black Moon,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Black Dice,
Bauhaus,
Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Stooges,
Ronnie Foster,
The Divine Comedy,
The Move,
Whodini,
Gang Starr,
The Grass Roots,
Marine Girls,
ABC,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.