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 Laos 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Marshall Jefferson to the electroclash 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Intrusion,
The Misunderstood,
The Human League,
Bluetip,
The Grass Roots,
The Busters,
MC5,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Das Ding,
Black Bananas,
EPMD,
Surgeon,
Sight & Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sam Rivers,
The Toasters,
Maurizio,
The Cure,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
Arcadia,
Dead Boys,
Urselle,
Laurel Aitken,
Excepter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tubeway Army,
Organ,
Jawbox,
Letta Mbulu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Malaria!,
The Names,
The Count Five,
The Remains,
Circle Jerks,
The Music Machine,
Unwound,
The Raincoats,
The Evens,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
Spandau Ballet,
Blossom Toes,
Susan Cadogan,
Nico,
Q and Not U,
Barbara Tucker,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Neon Judgement,
Godley & Creme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donny Hathaway,
Aswad,
ABBA,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.