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 Swaziland and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Lungfish to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blancmange,
Severed Heads,
Make Up,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana,
The Skatalites,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Seeds,
Marvin Gaye,
Cheater Slicks,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fuzztones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Shuggie Otis,
Skriet,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rufus Thomas,
Spoonie Gee,
Joyce Sims,
Brand Nubian,
Charles Mingus,
The Techniques,
the Association,
Brass Construction,
Harmonia,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scan 7,
The Fall,
Andrew Hill,
Visage,
Eve St. Jones,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gabor Szabo,
Lungfish,
the Soft Cell,
Livin' Joy,
Stiv Bators,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Procol Harum,
Panda Bear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Move,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Byrd,
The New Christs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ice-T,
Thompson Twins,
Rekid,
Scratch Acid,
the Swans,
The Martian,
The Wake,
Roy Ayers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eden Ahbez,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.