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 Namibia and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Deepchord,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Ohio Players,
John Holt,
Von Mondo,
The Residents,
Tears for Fears,
Model 500,
Bauhaus,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slackers,
Audionom,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Alton Ellis,
Intrusion,
Derrick May,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxette,
The Leaves,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magma,
the Swans,
Sällskapet,
Subhumans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Techniques,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispy Ambulance,
T.S.O.L.,
Wally Richardson,
The Standells,
Excepter,
Arcadia,
Severed Heads,
Rakim,
The Selecter,
Maurizio,
Drexciya,
The Neon Judgement,
The Walker Brothers,
Skriet,
Interpol,
Amazonics,
The Cramps,
Marine Girls,
Howard Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Iggy Pop,
Blossom Toes,
Symarip,
Bad Manners,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.