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 Indonesia and from Seoul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The American Breed to the techno 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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Technova,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Pus,
Nas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Monochrome Set,
Johnny Clarke,
Skriet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang of Four,
Ituana,
Bobby Womack,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pere Ubu,
Q and Not U,
The Slackers,
The Divine Comedy,
Hot Snakes,
Unwound,
R.M.O.,
Eden Ahbez,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camouflage,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Susan Cadogan,
The Motions,
Mission of Burma,
Cal Tjader,
Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
Quantec,
JFA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Misunderstood,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
Jawbox,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Görl,
B.T. Express,
The Buckinghams,
Gregory Isaacs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lakeside,
Negative Approach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana,
The Real Kids,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
DJ Style,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
Harmonia,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.