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 Cyprus and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sixth Finger to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Ronan,
ABC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Delta 5,
Scan 7,
Shoche,
Magazine,
The Star Department,
Stiv Bators,
Whodini,
Harmonia,
Lucky Dragons,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mojo Men,
Maleditus Sound,
Adolescents,
The Zeros,
Sällskapet,
Chris & Cosey,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joyce Sims,
Pere Ubu,
Inner City,
The Index,
Joy Division,
Marc Almond,
The Human League,
Mars,
Davy DMX,
The Vogues,
Kenny Larkin,
The Names,
Ice-T,
Bauhaus,
Guru Guru,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Last Poets,
Stetsasonic,
kango's stein massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tommy Roe,
Qualms,
Sister Nancy,
Accadde A,
Rakim,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wire,
Sun City Girls,
Main Source,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.