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 Bahrain and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 New York Dolls to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
L. Decosne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Banda Bassotti,
The Index,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moby Grape,
Skriet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Spandau Ballet,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
Man Parrish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camberwell Now,
Al Stewart,
Y Pants,
Ornette Coleman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Busters,
a-ha,
Flipper,
The Cure,
Kas Product,
Sister Nancy,
Michelle Simonal,
Smog,
The Kinks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Golliwogs,
Lalann,
Letta Mbulu,
Chrome,
Deepchord,
The Beau Brummels,
Matthew Bourne,
Jawbox,
Chris Corsano,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Scientists,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Harry Pussy,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
T. Rex,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Absolute Body Control,
Joyce Sims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sound,
Jandek,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.