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 Congo and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Scratch Acid to the punk 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Archie Shepp,
The Kinks,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gastr Del Sol,
48th St. Collective,
Flipper,
Reagan Youth,
Yazoo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dennis Brown,
Simply Red,
The Litter,
Malaria!,
Bluetip,
Camouflage,
Spandau Ballet,
Minutemen,
Faust,
H. Thieme,
Los Fastidios,
This Heat,
Blancmange,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DJ Style,
Clear Light,
Glenn Branca,
Janne Schatter,
Freddie Wadling,
Tropical Tobacco,
Absolute Body Control,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Isaac Hayes,
Sound Behaviour,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Motions,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Das Ding,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tom Boy,
Idris Muhammad,
The Remains,
Scion,
Arab on Radar,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
Schoolly D,
Anakelly,
Pulsallama,
New York Dolls,
Grauzone,
A Certain Ratio,
Eurythmics,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.