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 Iceland 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Reagan Youth 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Cameo,
Ossler,
Blancmange,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kurtis Blow,
Lower 48,
Zero Boys,
Oblivians,
Scan 7,
Fear,
Warren Ellis,
The Five Americans,
The Move,
Malaria!,
Joyce Sims,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
Unwound,
Sällskapet,
Mark Hollis,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Star Department,
Magma,
Pere Ubu,
Wally Richardson,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
the Germs,
Zapp,
Duran Duran,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Flag,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deadbeat,
Joe Finger,
Gang Green,
The Dirtbombs,
Bush Tetras,
Make Up,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kenny Larkin,
The Durutti Column,
A Certain Ratio,
Schoolly D,
Severed Heads,
Lakeside,
Robert Görl,
Arcadia,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
World's Most,
Interpol,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.