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 Georgia and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Walker Brothers,
Guru Guru,
kango's stein massive,
FM Einheit,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tropical Tobacco,
Groovy Waters,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
Scan 7,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chrome,
Aural Exciters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Young Rascals,
The Human League,
Nils Olav,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ken Boothe,
The Music Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
The Index,
Amon Düül,
Mars,
The Associates,
Camberwell Now,
Severed Heads,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sällskapet,
Visage,
Marshall Jefferson,
Altered Images,
Television,
Man Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
June Days,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pylon,
World's Most,
Babytalk,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
The Evens,
Soft Machine,
The Raincoats,
AZ,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed,
Barry Ungar,
Gabor Szabo,
Quantec,
Barbara Tucker,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.