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 Tajikistan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Martian to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
The Evens,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sight & Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy Collins,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Byrd,
Essential Logic,
Procol Harum,
Rekid,
Q65,
Vladislav Delay,
The Residents,
Massinfluence,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donny Hathaway,
Jeru the Damaja,
New Age Steppers,
Iggy Pop,
Negative Approach,
Technova,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Echospace,
Dawn Penn,
Black Pus,
Don Cherry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeff Mills,
Anakelly,
Roxy Music,
Radiohead,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Zapp,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Banda Bassotti,
David Bowie,
KRS-One,
The Cure,
Hardrive,
Silicon Teens,
Barbara Tucker,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
The Young Rascals,
the Germs,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.