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 East Timor and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Goldenarms,
Mo-Dettes,
10cc,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
Shoche,
Brass Construction,
The Martian,
Fluxion,
Fugazi,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed,
Lindisfarne,
Barbara Tucker,
Lalann,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
Adolescents,
John Foxx,
David Bowie,
Faust,
The Young Rascals,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Panda Bear,
The Skatalites,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stiv Bators,
Porter Ricks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Qualms,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
Trumans Water,
Kaleidoscope,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
Boredoms,
Leonard Cohen,
Accadde A,
Scrapy,
R.M.O.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
Arab on Radar,
Bad Manners,
Main Source,
Rites of Spring,
Crispy Ambulance,
Darondo,
Crime,
The Slits,
The Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.