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 Argentina and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Flag to the dance 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Letta Mbulu,
Pussy Galore,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Lungfish,
Susan Cadogan,
The Remains,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
Sandy B,
Second Layer,
Bill Near,
Guru Guru,
Mary Jane Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Dave Gahan,
Don Cherry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Angels of Light,
Unwound,
Mr. Review,
Procol Harum,
Basic Channel,
the Soft Cell,
Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
Porter Ricks,
Gong,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Glenn Branca,
Donald Byrd,
Deepchord,
Hardrive,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Moleskins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Martian,
Mars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Technova,
The Black Dice,
Von Mondo,
Blossom Toes,
Little Man,
Los Fastidios,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Laurel Aitken,
Eli Mardock,
Average White Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
UT,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.