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 Macedonia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the disco 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
Ten City,
UT,
Surgeon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cowsills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aaron Thompson,
The Searchers,
The Seeds,
China Crisis,
The Selecter,
John Lydon,
Scrapy,
Gang of Four,
Symarip,
Half Japanese,
Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
Crime,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kayak,
Cecil Taylor,
Agent Orange,
The Angels of Light,
H. Thieme,
Robert Hood,
Stereo Dub,
The Skatalites,
Mission of Burma,
Scientists,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Womack,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Todd Rundgren,
EPMD,
The Names,
the Human League,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sandy B,
Deadbeat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Blackbyrds,
Tears for Fears,
Drexciya,
Roxy Music,
OOIOO,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Outsiders,
John Cale,
The Blues Magoos,
The Walker Brothers,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.