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 Bahamas and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 K-Klass to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can 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?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aural Exciters,
Monolake,
Barbara Tucker,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deadbeat,
China Crisis,
DJ Sneak,
Tommy Roe,
the Association,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pylon,
Junior Murvin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blake Baxter,
Aloha Tigers,
Sex Pistols,
Loose Ends,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Theoretical Girls,
Wally Richardson,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
Tom Boy,
Q65,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Remains,
Eric Copeland,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Flag,
Sonny Sharrock,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun City Girls,
MC5,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Pretty Things,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wasted Youth,
The Doors,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marc Almond,
Bob Dylan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Mojo Men,
EPMD,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barry Ungar,
Slick Rick,
Darondo,
Television,
Anakelly,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stereo Dub,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.