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 Cameroon and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Terrestrial Tones to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk 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?
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
Animal Collective,
the Slits,
Guru Guru,
Suburban Knight,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
New York Dolls,
Eden Ahbez,
Interpol,
Howard Jones,
Michelle Simonal,
James White and The Blacks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Index,
Make Up,
Thee Headcoats,
Alton Ellis,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
Bluetip,
The Mojo Men,
Bill Near,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Joensuu 1685,
Half Japanese,
a-ha,
Eve St. Jones,
PIL,
The Beau Brummels,
Terry Callier,
The Pretty Things,
Althea and Donna,
Jacob Miller,
Marmalade,
Rufus Thomas,
Crash Course in Science,
Con Funk Shun,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Stiv Bators,
Sarah Menescal,
Barry Ungar,
Blossom Toes,
Maleditus Sound,
EPMD,
Cluster,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
Harmonia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
Letta Mbulu,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Angels of Light,
R.M.O.,
Young Marble Giants,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.