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 Kuwait and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar 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 The Raincoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
The Last Poets,
John Lydon,
Ronan,
Crime,
MDC,
PIL,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yazoo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DJ Style,
Arthur Verocai,
Mandrill,
Hasil Adkins,
Bluetip,
New Age Steppers,
Reuben Wilson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Buckinghams,
Sex Pistols,
Sarah Menescal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Al Stewart,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gap Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Music Machine,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Martian,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rosa Yemen,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Harmonia,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dead C,
Brass Construction,
Morten Harket,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Popol Vuh,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Coltrane,
Buzzcocks,
Rapeman,
Minny Pops,
The Seeds,
Kool Moe Dee,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Second Layer,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.