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 San Marino and from New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gregory Isaacs to the dance 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro 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?
Japan,
David Axelrod,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Cell,
Pylon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Spandau Ballet,
New Age Steppers,
The Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brass Construction,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Raincoats,
Arab on Radar,
H. Thieme,
This Heat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nils Olav,
Camouflage,
China Crisis,
Stereo Dub,
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
The Invisible,
Robert Wyatt,
The J.B.'s,
Banda Bassotti,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
The Wake,
The Moleskins,
Symarip,
Jawbox,
Flipper,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Electric Prunes,
Bronski Beat,
Archie Shepp,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Isaac Hayes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Black Dice,
Sixth Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rosa Yemen,
D'Angelo,
DJ Style,
The Gories,
Yellowson,
Toni Rubio,
Patti Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Prince Buster,
Deadbeat,
The Move,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.