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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 These Immortal Souls to the grime 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Eurythmics,
Joensuu 1685,
The Litter,
Barrington Levy,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Count Five,
Toni Rubio,
Connie Case,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
Brass Construction,
The Blues Magoos,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
a-ha,
Chris & Cosey,
Jandek,
The Monks,
Gichy Dan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Talk Talk,
The Tremeloes,
Banda Bassotti,
Slave,
Rakim,
Goldenarms,
Kenny Larkin,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marshall Jefferson,
Judy Mowatt,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Eden Ahbez,
Spandau Ballet,
The Remains,
Max Romeo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sandy B,
Subhumans,
The Motions,
Robert Görl,
Boredoms,
E-Dancer,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Young Marble Giants,
New Age Steppers,
DJ Style,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Black Dice,
The Raincoats,
The Cure,
The Selecter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Zeros,
Interpol,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.