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 Gambia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the electroclash 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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Grauzone,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne,
Agent Orange,
Alphaville,
Cameo,
Simply Red,
Joy Division,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Niagra,
Intrusion,
Mantronix,
The Buckinghams,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
Swell Maps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mad Mike,
Los Fastidios,
Wings,
Spoonie Gee,
Inner City,
Josef K,
Quando Quango,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eden Ahbez,
Brass Construction,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bill Wells,
Sound Behaviour,
The Monks,
Lou Christie,
Faust,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
Black Pus,
Gong,
The Victims,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Susan Cadogan,
Pussy Galore,
Model 500,
Shoche,
Fugazi,
The Stooges,
Matthew Bourne,
Albert Ayler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Loose Ends,
The Music Machine,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley,
Main Source,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.