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 Portugal and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mary Jane Girls to the disco 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Gabor Szabo,
Connie Case,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Severed Heads,
David McCallum,
Guru Guru,
Mad Mike,
the Association,
Bob Dylan,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harmonia,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
The Knickerbockers,
Neu!,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eve St. Jones,
the Normal,
Ronan,
The Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Khruangbin,
UT,
The Electric Prunes,
Gong,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
Colin Newman,
The Birthday Party,
The Searchers,
FM Einheit,
Marine Girls,
The Gap Band,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Cheater Slicks,
China Crisis,
Wings,
Minor Threat,
Deakin,
Gang of Four,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
Ken Boothe,
Jawbox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Erykah Badu,
Eurythmics,
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
Aswad,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Q65,
Circle Jerks,
Sonic Youth,
Radiohead,
Clear Light,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.