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 Dominica and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Holger Czukay 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Quando Quango,
Mo-Dettes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Human League,
Soft Cell,
Das Ding,
Visage,
The Searchers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Young Rascals,
Charles Mingus,
Bad Manners,
The Dead C,
The Gories,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army,
Skriet,
Soulsonic Force,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mad Mike,
Nik Kershaw,
Albert Ayler,
Radiohead,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Maleditus Sound,
Index,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Althea and Donna,
The Birthday Party,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brass Construction,
Mark Hollis,
Minutemen,
Sandy B,
Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Interpol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rosa Yemen,
Lower 48,
Ken Boothe,
Infiniti,
Joensuu 1685,
Lee Hazlewood,
Average White Band,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
Mr. Review,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
John Coltrane,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.