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 Mali and from Manila.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Subhumans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Circle Jerks,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Hill,
Pole,
The Toasters,
Robert Görl,
Easy Going,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jerry's Kids,
One Last Wish,
Fad Gadget,
Rites of Spring,
The Durutti Column,
Marvin Gaye,
MC5,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The J.B.'s,
The Fuzztones,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
The Evens,
Smog,
Deepchord,
Gerry Rafferty,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultravox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Babytalk,
Skaos,
Nik Kershaw,
Zapp,
Sight & Sound,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fugs,
Bob Dylan,
Stetsasonic,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
In Retrospect,
Minnie Riperton,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.