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 Taiwan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Cramps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marvin Gaye,
Marine Girls,
Joe Finger,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Last Poets,
The Saints,
The Count Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Swans,
Marc Almond,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Michelle Simonal,
Rod Modell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eric Dolphy,
Fear,
Lyres,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Quantec,
LL Cool J,
Agitation Free,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deakin,
Interpol,
Cameo,
Cybotron,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cure,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alton Ellis,
David McCallum,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Sherman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Wire,
Stiv Bators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lou Reed,
Aaron Thompson,
Minutemen,
Basic Channel,
Visage,
John Lydon,
Gang Gang Dance,
FM Einheit,
The Invisible,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Severed Heads,
Roxette,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.