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 Kiribati and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Trojans to the electroclash 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Ossler,
Tubeway Army,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Todd Terry,
Joy Division,
Bluetip,
The Vogues,
X-101,
The American Breed,
Arab on Radar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magazine,
The Black Dice,
The Birthday Party,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
OOIOO,
The Red Krayola,
The Real Kids,
Spoonie Gee,
Von Mondo,
The Names,
The Alarm Clocks,
New Order,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stetsasonic,
Mr. Review,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Althea and Donna,
MC5,
Dark Day,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Letta Mbulu,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Bourne,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magma,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sun Ra,
Excepter,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Holt,
Black Flag,
The Moleskins,
The Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.