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 Switzerland and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 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 Hot Snakes to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Invisible,
Fifty Foot Hose,
R.M.O.,
Harmonia,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delta 5,
Toni Rubio,
Roxette,
Connie Case,
The Music Machine,
The Techniques,
Soul II Soul,
F. McDonald,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pagans,
The Gladiators,
The Grass Roots,
Cameo,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Man Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Fluxion,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Excepter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
The Last Poets,
Moebius,
The Misunderstood,
Traffic Nightmare,
Buzzcocks,
The Slackers,
Pylon,
Adolescents,
Drexciya,
Cheater Slicks,
Joy Division,
the Swans,
the Sonics,
Icehouse,
Boredoms,
Scan 7,
Barry Ungar,
The Real Kids,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.