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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Leonard Cohen to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 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 Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
K-Klass,
Maleditus Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Isaac Hayes,
Make Up,
Piero Umiliani,
Mission of Burma,
The Modern Lovers,
The Blues Magoos,
Guru Guru,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Kinks,
Joensuu 1685,
Soft Machine,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
Agitation Free,
Accadde A,
Max Romeo,
Neu!,
The Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
Gregory Isaacs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Urselle,
Thee Headcoats,
David Bowie,
Sugar Minott,
Reuben Wilson,
The Mojo Men,
Quantec,
Warsaw,
Ohio Players,
Zero Boys,
The Associates,
Nas,
Slick Rick,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lalann,
Jandek,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angry Samoans,
Technova,
The United States of America,
The Skatalites,
Quadrant,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swans,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.