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 Kazakhstan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Moby Grape to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Moon,
Gang of Four,
Rakim,
The Evens,
Ice-T,
Slick Rick,
Connie Case,
Visage,
Man Parrish,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
Average White Band,
Minny Pops,
Bauhaus,
Barry Ungar,
Cybotron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Skatalites,
Radio Birdman,
The Saints,
The Fuzztones,
Infiniti,
Camberwell Now,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Womack,
Lucky Dragons,
The Associates,
Matthew Bourne,
Erasure,
Alton Ellis,
Babytalk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lungfish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
One Last Wish,
Suburban Knight,
In Retrospect,
Peter & Gordon,
Gichy Dan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-Ray Spex,
Donny Hathaway,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
Scan 7,
The Angels of Light,
CMW,
Spandau Ballet,
The Victims,
The Music Machine,
Fatback Band,
Donald Byrd,
The Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liliput,
LL Cool J,
Talk Talk,
Aloha Tigers,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.