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 Slovakia and from Lagos.
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 Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk 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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Dark Day,
Matthew Bourne,
Swans,
China Crisis,
Mark Hollis,
Isaac Hayes,
Iggy Pop,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marine Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mojo Men,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
D'Angelo,
Minny Pops,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kenny Larkin,
Gichy Dan,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ponytail,
Franke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roxette,
Jerry's Kids,
Country Teasers,
Hardrive,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Hood,
Suburban Knight,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Monks,
Hashim,
The Cure,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
Black Bananas,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Associates,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dead Boys,
Alton Ellis,
The Invisible,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Lindisfarne,
Bronski Beat,
Talk Talk,
Ohio Players,
Kurtis Blow,
E-Dancer,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.