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 Seychelles and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bluetip to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a rhodes 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 arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The Names,
Piero Umiliani,
The American Breed,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sparks,
Smog,
The Pop Group,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neu!,
John Cale,
Pylon,
D'Angelo,
Connie Case,
Scratch Acid,
Public Image Ltd.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ponytail,
The Zeros,
The Dead C,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crispian St. Peters,
PIL,
Massinfluence,
Nico,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Malaria!,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
The Misunderstood,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Index,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gun Club,
Roger Hodgson,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs,
Niagra,
Masters at Work,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Age Steppers,
a-ha,
R.M.O.,
Minnie Riperton,
Danielle Patucci,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
China Crisis,
Bootsy Collins,
Howard Jones,
John Lydon,
The Remains,
The Raincoats,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.