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 Mexico and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Motions to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vainqueur,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Quantec,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alison Limerick,
The Skatalites,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
Soul II Soul,
ABC,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wire,
Livin' Joy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Audionom,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang On A Can,
Dark Day,
Tres Demented,
The Walker Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
Popol Vuh,
Spandau Ballet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Malaria!,
The Busters,
Scientists,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Animal Collective,
Siglo XX,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New York Dolls,
Underground Resistance,
The Golliwogs,
Theoretical Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Spoonie Gee,
Peter and Kerry,
Iggy Pop,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Man Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
E-Dancer,
Tommy Roe,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick Morgan,
John Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
The Motions,
Rotary Connection,
Sällskapet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.