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 Costa Rica and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marshall Jefferson to the electroclash 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
AZ,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
La Düsseldorf,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter and Kerry,
The Beau Brummels,
The Searchers,
Pagans,
John Lydon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Public Enemy,
The Real Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suburban Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
cv313,
Little Man,
Dead Boys,
Lyres,
Deakin,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stiv Bators,
Ken Boothe,
Ituana,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Accadde A,
The Move,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Harry Pussy,
Animal Collective,
Clear Light,
The Remains,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Lindisfarne,
Brick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blake Baxter,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Sneak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scratch Acid,
Agitation Free,
Al Stewart,
Pantytec,
Wire,
Brass Construction,
Camberwell Now,
Agent Orange,
Aural Exciters,
Juan Atkins,
David McCallum,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.