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 Solomon Islands and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aural Exciters to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Cluster,
Circle Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Brand Nubian,
Goldenarms,
The Neon Judgement,
MC5,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stereo Dub,
Ultra Naté,
Organ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
the Slits,
Half Japanese,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eurythmics,
Funkadelic,
The Leaves,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed,
T.S.O.L.,
Simply Red,
Cheater Slicks,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lou Christie,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MDC,
Neil Young,
Supertramp,
Grauzone,
Royal Trux,
Guru Guru,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skaos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fatback Band,
the Germs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Magazine,
Johnny Osbourne,
Peter & Gordon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Bill Wells,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
Junior Murvin,
Zapp,
Sun Ra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.