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 China and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Swell Maps to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
The Wake,
The Blackbyrds,
Danielle Patucci,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
Radiopuhelimet,
OOIOO,
Jimmy McGriff,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nas,
Joensuu 1685,
Warren Ellis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scan 7,
48th St. Collective,
Minutemen,
Skarface,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arcadia,
Ponytail,
Arthur Verocai,
Marine Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
ABC,
China Crisis,
Liliput,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sun City Girls,
Masters at Work,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mark Hollis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tom Boy,
Television Personalities,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
Throbbing Gristle,
Janne Schatter,
Isaac Hayes,
Section 25,
Kerrie Biddell,
Second Layer,
These Immortal Souls,
DNA,
X-101,
Lightning Bolt,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
Magazine,
Theoretical Girls,
Robert Hood,
Jandek,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.