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 Marshall Islands and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
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 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 Fania All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Minutemen,
Unwound,
Laurel Aitken,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Au Pairs,
Juan Atkins,
These Immortal Souls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Johnny Clarke,
Livin' Joy,
Drexciya,
The Alarm Clocks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joe Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Smoke,
Fear,
Tropical Tobacco,
Piero Umiliani,
Jacques Brel,
Sonny Sharrock,
Public Enemy,
Model 500,
Steve Hackett,
The Human League,
Delta 5,
The Birthday Party,
Quando Quango,
Kaleidoscope,
Bluetip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sam Rivers,
The Fortunes,
The Mummies,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
David Axelrod,
Outsiders,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barbara Tucker,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
Pussy Galore,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
Adolescents,
Faraquet,
Dark Day,
Fatback Band,
The Moleskins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.