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 Nauru 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 The Victims to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Davy DMX,
Von Mondo,
The Searchers,
The Stooges,
Bang On A Can,
The Black Dice,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Slackers,
Max Romeo,
Eddi Front,
The Last Poets,
Iggy Pop,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wasted Youth,
The Trojans,
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Clarke,
Ken Boothe,
The Dead C,
Tears for Fears,
the Sonics,
Lungfish,
Rites of Spring,
Royal Trux,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sixth Finger,
Porter Ricks,
The Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Eli Mardock,
The Gladiators,
Crooked Eye,
The Neon Judgement,
Lyres,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hot Snakes,
Crash Course in Science,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pierre Henry,
Vladislav Delay,
Rosa Yemen,
Cybotron,
Fad Gadget,
Tomorrow,
The Gap Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
FM Einheit,
Ten City,
Sonic Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Junior Murvin,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
CMW,
Make Up,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.