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 Tonga and from Stockholm.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Buzzcocks to the dance 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Sexual Harrassment,
Quando Quango,
Sparks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Offenders,
Rosa Yemen,
Dead Boys,
Thee Headcoats,
The Dead C,
Sex Pistols,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marcia Griffiths,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Main Source,
Robert Hood,
Circle Jerks,
Pantaleimon,
Skarface,
Janne Schatter,
FM Einheit,
Q65,
The Trojans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wings,
Sight & Sound,
Qualms,
Unrelated Segments,
Bootsy Collins,
Marine Girls,
The Cowsills,
Jawbox,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joe Finger,
X-101,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter and Kerry,
Don Cherry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barrington Levy,
Motorama,
Anakelly,
Pole,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mo-Dettes,
Half Japanese,
Amazonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Procol Harum,
Altered Images,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.