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 Vietnam and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Names to the techno 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Ice-T,
Bobby Sherman,
The Invisible,
Reuben Wilson,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang of Four,
Depeche Mode,
Los Fastidios,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang Gang Dance,
Buzzcocks,
Terry Callier,
Pulsallama,
Anakelly,
Blake Baxter,
Grey Daturas,
The Neon Judgement,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Sarah Menescal,
the Soft Cell,
Main Source,
The Mummies,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Harmonia,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABC,
Average White Band,
Basic Channel,
Sonic Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Byrd,
Nas,
Roger Hodgson,
Joy Division,
Urselle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barrington Levy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hashim,
Dual Sessions,
Danielle Patucci,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Happenings,
The Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.