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 the UAE and from Salvador.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Patti Smith to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Interpol,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
The Birthday Party,
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson,
Eden Ahbez,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Scratch Acid,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
The Doors,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dirtbombs,
Spoonie Gee,
Von Mondo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
In Retrospect,
Rod Modell,
U.S. Maple,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nirvana,
Steve Hackett,
Grauzone,
Section 25,
Blossom Toes,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
New Order,
Joe Finger,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Offenders,
A Certain Ratio,
Procol Harum,
Maleditus Sound,
Warsaw,
Los Fastidios,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ituana,
Eli Mardock,
10cc,
Funky Four + One,
PIL,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Janne Schatter,
The Barracudas,
Ice-T,
Shoche,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.