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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Derrick May to the techno 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Gang of Four,
Index,
The Red Krayola,
The Fugs,
Archie Shepp,
Shoche,
Maleditus Sound,
The Techniques,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
David McCallum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Buckinghams,
The Birthday Party,
Blancmange,
Kas Product,
Lalann,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
Joyce Sims,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Matthew Halsall,
Leonard Cohen,
The Barracudas,
Robert Hood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roger Hodgson,
Grey Daturas,
Adolescents,
Black Flag,
the Association,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wire,
Simply Red,
the Sonics,
Harmonia,
The Music Machine,
Panda Bear,
Liliput,
Monks,
Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
John Foxx,
Jacob Miller,
Clear Light,
Scratch Acid,
Funky Four + One,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
MDC,
The Misunderstood,
OOIOO,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs,
The United States of America,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.