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 Guyana and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Amazonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
These Immortal Souls,
The New Christs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grey Daturas,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Prunes,
PIL,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Severed Heads,
Slick Rick,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Associates,
Black Moon,
Deadbeat,
Cecil Taylor,
John Coltrane,
Q and Not U,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cowsills,
Funkadelic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Altered Images,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
Steve Hackett,
Pole,
Schoolly D,
Trumans Water,
Loose Ends,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
Ronnie Foster,
The Moody Blues,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siglo XX,
cv313,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Inner City,
Dennis Brown,
Magma,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.