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 Cameroon and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Visage to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pole,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scrapy,
Outsiders,
Kerrie Biddell,
Steve Hackett,
Sonny Sharrock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Archie Shepp,
Crooked Eye,
Animal Collective,
Masters at Work,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims,
Lebanon Hanover,
Radiohead,
Reuben Wilson,
The Black Dice,
Angry Samoans,
Silicon Teens,
The Cramps,
X-Ray Spex,
Junior Murvin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Graham Central Station,
The Searchers,
Little Man,
Khruangbin,
T.S.O.L.,
Ultimate Spinach,
a-ha,
Magazine,
the Germs,
Unwound,
Fat Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Moby Grape,
Magma,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fortunes,
Donny Hathaway,
DNA,
Tommy Roe,
The Durutti Column,
The Birthday Party,
Toni Rubio,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Juan Atkins,
Johnny Clarke,
Youth Brigade,
Skaos,
Mark Hollis,
Theoretical Girls,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.