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 Somalia and from Copenhagen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide 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 Blossom Toes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Howard Jones,
X-102,
Magazine,
Scientists,
Faraquet,
Qualms,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
X-Ray Spex,
Massinfluence,
Gabor Szabo,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Young Rascals,
Scott Walker,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues,
Easy Going,
Fatback Band,
the Soft Cell,
Hot Snakes,
The Star Department,
La Düsseldorf,
Blossom Toes,
Lou Christie,
Cameo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nils Olav,
Todd Terry,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Offenders,
Bauhaus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
Rosa Yemen,
Agent Orange,
Radio Birdman,
The Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
Amon Düül,
Oblivians,
Mandrill,
Groovy Waters,
Sparks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
AZ,
Slave,
The Move,
Roger Hodgson,
Essential Logic,
Lucky Dragons,
Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
DJ Sneak,
Hoover,
Matthew Bourne,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.