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 Romania and from Stockholm.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Tim Buckley to the jazz 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
The Slackers,
Bluetip,
H. Thieme,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fatback Band,
This Heat,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs,
The Residents,
The Tremeloes,
Minor Threat,
Maurizio,
Aswad,
Eric Dolphy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ken Boothe,
The Litter,
Lindisfarne,
Maleditus Sound,
Icehouse,
Bill Near,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare,
The Cure,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultravox,
Boredoms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skarface,
K-Klass,
Thee Headcoats,
Tommy Roe,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
Ludus,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fugazi,
Little Man,
Albert Ayler,
Tim Buckley,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slick Rick,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rufus Thomas,
Arab on Radar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed,
Yaz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
KRS-One,
Marvin Gaye,
Stereo Dub,
Agent Orange,
Talk Talk,
The Offenders,
Swell Maps,
The Evens,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.