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 Syria and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 Tears for Fears to the jazz 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
Ponytail,
Rotary Connection,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
The Monks,
Donald Byrd,
Alice Coltrane,
Delta 5,
Metal Thangz,
Blake Baxter,
Black Moon,
Rapeman,
Ice-T,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes,
The Sound,
World's Most,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
Suicide,
Buzzcocks,
Brothers Johnson,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Starr,
This Heat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Newcleus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Y Pants,
Alton Ellis,
Royal Trux,
Juan Atkins,
The Last Poets,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Victims,
Radio Birdman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
ABC,
Negative Approach,
Q and Not U,
Danielle Patucci,
Roxy Music,
Drexciya,
Throbbing Gristle,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quadrant,
Average White Band,
The Skatalites,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Standells,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.