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 Papua New Guinea and from Toronto.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Red Krayola to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Infiniti,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers,
The Golliwogs,
Byron Stingily,
Wolf Eyes,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
AZ,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ten City,
Ice-T,
The Move,
E-Dancer,
Nils Olav,
Organ,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Soft Cell,
Crooked Eye,
The Neon Judgement,
Theoretical Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Alphaville,
Zapp,
Ossler,
Moebius,
Warren Ellis,
Sun City Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Janne Schatter,
Y Pants,
Cameo,
CMW,
Brass Construction,
The Dirtbombs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barrington Levy,
Ultra Naté,
DNA,
Amazonics,
One Last Wish,
Sparks,
The Pretty Things,
Zero Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Sugar Minott,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Slave,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Blake Baxter,
Make Up,
Subhumans,
The Smoke,
JFA,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.