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 Comoros 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Kenny Larkin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
Pulsallama,
Eddi Front,
June Days,
The Evens,
Y Pants,
Joey Negro,
Blake Baxter,
Kas Product,
Minnie Riperton,
Banda Bassotti,
Henry Cow,
Brand Nubian,
Brick,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
Minor Threat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Davy DMX,
Outsiders,
The Red Krayola,
Trumans Water,
PIL,
Bobbi Humphrey,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Echospace,
Basic Channel,
Pere Ubu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Liliput,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Walker Brothers,
The Residents,
Young Marble Giants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dual Sessions,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Erasure,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
Dennis Brown,
Archie Shepp,
Quando Quango,
Flamin' Groovies,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ornette Coleman,
OOIOO,
Steve Hackett,
Popol Vuh,
Motorama,
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
The Remains,
Qualms,
JFA,
Sonic Youth,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.