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 Azerbaijan and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Depeche Mode to the dance 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Mr. Review,
Cluster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
The Monochrome Set,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tim Buckley,
The Remains,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gladiators,
Funky Four + One,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camberwell Now,
Susan Cadogan,
Sight & Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
Jacques Brel,
Scan 7,
Dennis Brown,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
cv313,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Joyce Sims,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
Andrew Hill,
Danielle Patucci,
Jandek,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
Crash Course in Science,
Angry Samoans,
Average White Band,
Radio Birdman,
David Bowie,
Gastr Del Sol,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
Faust,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terry Callier,
Sällskapet,
Joey Negro,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pagans,
X-102,
Loose Ends,
China Crisis,
Arcadia,
Sam Rivers,
Peter & Gordon,
The Martian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.