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 South Africa and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Model 500,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kevin Saunderson,
Maurizio,
Parry Music,
EPMD,
Hardrive,
The Angels of Light,
Duran Duran,
Barrington Levy,
Rakim,
Todd Rundgren,
The Moody Blues,
Tom Boy,
Lou Christie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faraquet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Alison Limerick,
Rod Modell,
Bauhaus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brass Construction,
Skaos,
F. McDonald,
DJ Style,
Barry Ungar,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
The Wake,
Danielle Patucci,
Moss Icon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ice-T,
Roxy Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Motorama,
Saccharine Trust,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
The Techniques,
Lyres,
The Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
Altered Images,
Lalann,
Black Bananas,
D'Angelo,
The Residents,
Frankie Knuckles,
Matthew Halsall,
Anthony Braxton,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Görl,
Andrew Hill,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.