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 Comoros and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eve St. Jones 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erasure,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Misunderstood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
MC5,
T. Rex,
Pylon,
New York Dolls,
Accadde A,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
FM Einheit,
Aural Exciters,
Kerri Chandler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rod Modell,
The Toasters,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Barracudas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
Gang Gang Dance,
Trumans Water,
Sixth Finger,
LL Cool J,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kayak,
Suburban Knight,
David Bowie,
Crispian St. Peters,
Das Ding,
Max Romeo,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Ossler,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Wyatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mantronix,
Scratch Acid,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.