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 Belarus and from Houston.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lakeside to the punk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fall,
Sandy B,
Spoonie Gee,
Yaz,
Little Man,
The Last Poets,
Popol Vuh,
Silicon Teens,
Harmonia,
Marc Almond,
Zero Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Idris Muhammad,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Youth Brigade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Graham Central Station,
B.T. Express,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Starr,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Fraelich,
Theoretical Girls,
the Association,
Soul II Soul,
Erasure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Essential Logic,
China Crisis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
Chris Corsano,
The Doors,
ABC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Wells,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fat Boys,
Dual Sessions,
The Divine Comedy,
Underground Resistance,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Modern Lovers,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Adolescents,
Scion,
Man Parrish,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.