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 Equatorial Guinea 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cameo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Amazonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeff Lynne,
The Knickerbockers,
The Index,
The Motions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echospace,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
Magma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fall,
Roger Hodgson,
The Toasters,
Swell Maps,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
Alton Ellis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bad Manners,
The Move,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
The Selecter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television Personalities,
the Germs,
Saccharine Trust,
ABC,
The Remains,
Tom Boy,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spandau Ballet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
Adolescents,
Kenny Larkin,
Skaos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Techniques,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rites of Spring,
KRS-One,
Crime,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T,
This Heat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Victims,
DJ Style,
The Martian,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.