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 Poland and from Johannesburg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crash Course in Science to the grunge 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Human League,
Wasted Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jandek,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Slits,
Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
MDC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Camberwell Now,
L. Decosne,
The Pop Group,
The Sound,
Gang Starr,
K-Klass,
Black Flag,
Harmonia,
David Bowie,
Hardrive,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks,
Barbara Tucker,
Quando Quango,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eve St. Jones,
Neu!,
Eli Mardock,
Bad Manners,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
Albert Ayler,
The Zeros,
JFA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June Days,
Roy Ayers,
The Mojo Men,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantytec,
Jeff Mills,
Alton Ellis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mo-Dettes,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Funky Four + One,
Pulsallama,
Eric Copeland,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
kango's stein massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warren Ellis,
The Black Dice,
UT,
Ornette Coleman,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.