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 Honduras and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 New Order to the punk 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Model 500,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Arcadia,
Crooked Eye,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Cheater Slicks,
Blake Baxter,
Youth Brigade,
The Monochrome Set,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
Q65,
Black Bananas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
Sister Nancy,
Shuggie Otis,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smoke,
kango's stein massive,
X-101,
Black Sheep,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
Junior Murvin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Sherman,
Moebius,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
Josef K,
Nils Olav,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unrelated Segments,
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
Skaos,
Black Flag,
The Barracudas,
Crime,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Main Source,
Wally Richardson,
The Remains,
Technova,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Leonard Cohen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marine Girls,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.