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 Zimbabwe and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Blancmange to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Angels of Light,
Essential Logic,
Cybotron,
Television Personalities,
Maleditus Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Womack,
Tubeway Army,
Tres Demented,
The Modern Lovers,
Jandek,
Cluster,
Basic Channel,
Rekid,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
Hoover,
Robert Hood,
H. Thieme,
48th St. Collective,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Newcleus,
Robert Görl,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy Collins,
The Moody Blues,
Donald Byrd,
Harmonia,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Offenders,
Suburban Knight,
Arthur Verocai,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Slackers,
The Invisible,
Liliput,
Roger Hodgson,
Darondo,
Barrington Levy,
The Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Absolute Body Control,
Adolescents,
Magma,
Brick,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.