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 Colombia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Flesh Eaters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Pole,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four,
Stockholm Monsters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Misunderstood,
The Grass Roots,
Chrome,
Darondo,
Wire,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Boz Scaggs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
the Sonics,
Jandek,
Bootsy Collins,
The Modern Lovers,
Alison Limerick,
Michelle Simonal,
The Dirtbombs,
Minny Pops,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Hasil Adkins,
Half Japanese,
Sun City Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ludus,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Qualms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Accadde A,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fear,
the Human League,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Scan 7,
Peter & Gordon,
Sixth Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deadbeat,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.