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 Singapore and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sarah Menescal to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Stooges,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Cal Tjader,
Theoretical Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash,
F. McDonald,
The Tremeloes,
Gabor Szabo,
Country Teasers,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Rundgren,
The Durutti Column,
Ituana,
Yellowson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Searchers,
Reuben Wilson,
Janne Schatter,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fad Gadget,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barry Ungar,
The Dead C,
The J.B.'s,
Thee Headcoats,
Visage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Starr,
Hashim,
Bang On A Can,
UT,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Mills,
Qualms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bluetip,
Banda Bassotti,
Magazine,
Joy Division,
Model 500,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Normal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Infiniti,
The Raincoats,
48th St. Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
New Age Steppers,
The Leaves,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.