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 Jamaica and from London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Jacques Brel to the electroclash 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Ultra Naté,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barry Ungar,
Pylon,
The Young Rascals,
Mary Jane Girls,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
Royal Trux,
Qualms,
The Evens,
Marvin Gaye,
Barbara Tucker,
Zapp,
Agitation Free,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Saints,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Eve St. Jones,
The Real Kids,
Hoover,
Nils Olav,
The Moleskins,
Sister Nancy,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Cluster,
Byron Stingily,
Babytalk,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Mummies,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unwound,
Talk Talk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eddi Front,
Intrusion,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare,
The Red Krayola,
Grauzone,
David Axelrod,
Eden Ahbez,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smiths,
Kas Product,
Warren Ellis,
The United States of America,
Gastr Del Sol,
Con Funk Shun,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.