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 Romania and from Tokyo.
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 Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 John Cale to the crunk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
the Fania All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Vogues,
The Star Department,
Sun Ra,
ABBA,
Bill Wells,
Tommy Roe,
R.M.O.,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
Can,
Derrick May,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Y Pants,
Iggy Pop,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
Clear Light,
Byron Stingily,
Barrington Levy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crash Course in Science,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arcadia,
Depeche Mode,
Glenn Branca,
The Electric Prunes,
The Zeros,
Eurythmics,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Surgeon,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Black Sheep,
Skaos,
Janne Schatter,
Lakeside,
KRS-One,
The Red Krayola,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalann,
John Holt,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
The Sisters of Mercy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.