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 Liechtenstein 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 The Dead C to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Jacob Miller,
Maurizio,
Eric Copeland,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Görl,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magazine,
Yazoo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grey Daturas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Y Pants,
Magma,
The Gories,
Guru Guru,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minutemen,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Wyatt,
The Offenders,
Mo-Dettes,
Steve Hackett,
Amon Düül,
The Kinks,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Bananas,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monochrome Set,
The Pretty Things,
Intrusion,
Q65,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Silicon Teens,
ABBA,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry's Kids,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
LL Cool J,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mummies,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
World's Most,
Simply Red,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Organ,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kaleidoscope,
Connie Case,
R.M.O.,
Gabor Szabo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New Order,
X-102,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.