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 Sweden and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bad Manners to the punk 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
The Neon Judgement,
Sun City Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Lalo Schifrin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalann,
Sällskapet,
The Associates,
Das Ding,
Basic Channel,
The Pretty Things,
Black Bananas,
Robert Görl,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marine Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Lucky Dragons,
Warsaw,
Section 25,
Goldenarms,
Eric B and Rakim,
Audionom,
Flash Fearless,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Thee Headcoats,
Ohio Players,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
The Monks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Moon,
AZ,
Josef K,
ABBA,
Reuben Wilson,
Zapp,
Whodini,
Hardrive,
Mad Mike,
Hashim,
Electric Prunes,
Funky Four + One,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
The Slits,
the Germs,
Mission of Burma,
Steve Hackett,
New Order,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Interpol,
Barrington Levy,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.