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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Michelle Simonal to the rap 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Slits,
Pagans,
The Offenders,
X-Ray Spex,
Marine Girls,
The Seeds,
Das Ding,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fear,
The Knickerbockers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minnie Riperton,
Fugazi,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Grauzone,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Wally Richardson,
Television,
Robert Wyatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Halsall,
Todd Terry,
The Evens,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Boz Scaggs,
The Busters,
June of 44,
Aloha Tigers,
Masters at Work,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Enemy,
Brick,
Sun City Girls,
Accadde A,
Fad Gadget,
48th St. Collective,
X-102,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nas,
Funkadelic,
Black Moon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mad Mike,
Audionom,
Lalann,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Vladislav Delay,
The Monochrome Set,
Sex Pistols,
Youth Brigade,
Yaz,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.