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 New Zealand and from Johannesburg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 EPMD to the punk 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Soft Cell,
the Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs,
the Slits,
Kerri Chandler,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
This Heat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Monochrome Set,
U.S. Maple,
Delta 5,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Minutemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
10cc,
Mad Mike,
Big Daddy Kane,
Iggy Pop,
Can,
Unwound,
Newcleus,
The Last Poets,
Aaron Thompson,
Ponytail,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tim Buckley,
June Days,
Babytalk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Swans,
Duran Duran,
David Axelrod,
48th St. Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cure,
Patti Smith,
Loose Ends,
Cal Tjader,
Todd Rundgren,
Fugazi,
The J.B.'s,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
L. Decosne,
Crooked Eye,
The Fall,
Juan Atkins,
Nirvana,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Absolute Body Control,
The Velvet Underground,
D'Angelo,
The New Christs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.