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 Spain and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Yazoo,
Yusef Lateef,
Sex Pistols,
Fatback Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Letta Mbulu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Sonics,
The Index,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Clear Light,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Todd Rundgren,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Star Department,
Soft Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Negative Approach,
Nas,
Quantec,
MDC,
E-Dancer,
Arthur Verocai,
Circle Jerks,
Kayak,
Stetsasonic,
Ultravox,
The Barracudas,
Crash Course in Science,
48th St. Collective,
Leonard Cohen,
Siglo XX,
Funky Four + One,
Bad Manners,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Lydon,
The Techniques,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rapeman,
The Durutti Column,
Skarface,
Dead Boys,
The Sonics,
The Associates,
Reagan Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Severed Heads,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.