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 Antigua and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Subhumans to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
China Crisis,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Outsiders,
The Grass Roots,
Mark Hollis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Pierre Henry,
Crash Course in Science,
Chrome,
Fugazi,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Parry Music,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
The Vogues,
David Axelrod,
Archie Shepp,
Colin Newman,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yazoo,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sex Pistols,
Dawn Penn,
Deakin,
Sun City Girls,
The Names,
The Seeds,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang of Four,
F. McDonald,
the Bar-Kays,
Interpol,
Jacob Miller,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Simply Red,
The Knickerbockers,
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cameo,
Bill Near,
Stiv Bators,
Siglo XX,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.