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 Burkina and from Winnipeg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
The Smoke,
Jeff Lynne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
Black Flag,
Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Malaria!,
The Red Krayola,
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
Scientists,
U.S. Maple,
The Gap Band,
Supertramp,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Subhumans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Blossom Toes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marmalade,
The Slits,
Metal Thangz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Henry Cow,
The Human League,
Marc Almond,
Ronan,
Hashim,
Aaron Thompson,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Bronski Beat,
Cheater Slicks,
Dead Boys,
The Martian,
The Motions,
Mad Mike,
Delta 5,
Sonic Youth,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
Kas Product,
Black Bananas,
Aural Exciters,
Sandy B,
kango's stein massive,
Donny Hathaway,
New Order,
Tres Demented,
JFA,
Barry Ungar,
The Last Poets,
Fad Gadget,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
PIL,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Swell Maps,
The United States of America,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.