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 Tuvalu and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Derrick May to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Angels of Light,
Cybotron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nas,
Nick Fraelich,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yazoo,
Crooked Eye,
Warsaw,
Ossler,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Red Krayola,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Aural Exciters,
Quantec,
David McCallum,
Audionom,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Searchers,
The Cramps,
Bronski Beat,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Magazine,
Model 500,
Guru Guru,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dawn Penn,
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Interpol,
The Names,
Niagra,
Yaz,
Rosa Yemen,
The Monks,
Section 25,
Aswad,
the Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Brand Nubian,
Youth Brigade,
Au Pairs,
Erykah Badu,
Q65,
Wasted Youth,
Todd Terry,
Banda Bassotti,
Robert Wyatt,
Fela Kuti,
Fat Boys,
The Trojans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.