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 Brazil and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Colin Newman to the crunk 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Black Pus,
Sällskapet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Selecter,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Sherman,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rod Modell,
Rosa Yemen,
The Mummies,
Alison Limerick,
Franke,
Livin' Joy,
The Music Machine,
Maleditus Sound,
Ohio Players,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
cv313,
Kaleidoscope,
Intrusion,
Magma,
Morten Harket,
The Moleskins,
D'Angelo,
The New Christs,
Johnny Clarke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ponytail,
48th St. Collective,
Ice-T,
Smog,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood,
Section 25,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crime,
Iggy Pop,
Ituana,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
Public Enemy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantaleimon,
Oneida,
The Saints,
Marmalade,
New York Dolls,
Aural Exciters,
ABC,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.