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 Lille.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Laurel Aitken 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
Fatback Band,
Pole,
Prince Buster,
Scan 7,
The Invisible,
Siglo XX,
The Standells,
Jawbox,
Accadde A,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
Agitation Free,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Searchers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sparks,
The Gun Club,
Fluxion,
Bobby Womack,
One Last Wish,
The Smiths,
Slick Rick,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacob Miller,
Animal Collective,
Minnie Riperton,
Davy DMX,
Wolf Eyes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nick Fraelich,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
Black Sheep,
the Human League,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
Second Layer,
Deadbeat,
Rekid,
Joe Finger,
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jacques Brel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gabor Szabo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick Morgan,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Hoover,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.