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 Jordan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Animal Collective to the techno 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Talk Talk,
F. McDonald,
Ice-T,
The Grass Roots,
Quadrant,
The Modern Lovers,
Mark Hollis,
Lucky Dragons,
The Monks,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
Sugar Minott,
Desert Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Terrestrial Tones,
Y Pants,
Scott Walker,
Arthur Verocai,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nils Olav,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Moebius,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Lydon,
Organ,
Girls At Our Best!,
Procol Harum,
Outsiders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter and Kerry,
The Offenders,
Harmonia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soulsonic Force,
Television Personalities,
Deepchord,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
Pere Ubu,
Eric Copeland,
World's Most,
Altered Images,
Amon Düül,
Matthew Bourne,
K-Klass,
The Electric Prunes,
Agent Orange,
Pantytec,
Delta 5,
Joyce Sims,
Arab on Radar,
One Last Wish,
Pussy Galore,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.