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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Wally Richardson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Morten Harket,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Magma,
Visage,
Scratch Acid,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling,
Eurythmics,
Rhythm & Sound,
Maurizio,
Tubeway Army,
Skaos,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ice-T,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
Mad Mike,
Man Parrish,
Jawbox,
The Electric Prunes,
Leonard Cohen,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jandek,
Crime,
Junior Murvin,
Oblivians,
Henry Cow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dark Day,
the Normal,
Drexciya,
Talk Talk,
Nas,
Derrick May,
DNA,
Grandmaster Flash,
June of 44,
Kas Product,
Country Teasers,
Darondo,
Joey Negro,
Monolake,
Y Pants,
Ludus,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Bananas,
8 Eyed Spy,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
The Black Dice,
Electric Prunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.