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 Russia and from London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Moleskins,
R.M.O.,
The Searchers,
Gang Green,
The Last Poets,
Hasil Adkins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Newcleus,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mummies,
Matthew Bourne,
Massinfluence,
Junior Murvin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Donald Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Morten Harket,
Surgeon,
The Standells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soul II Soul,
Franke,
The Dirtbombs,
Prince Buster,
Supertramp,
Nick Fraelich,
Cal Tjader,
Infiniti,
E-Dancer,
Don Cherry,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Young Rascals,
Joyce Sims,
Blancmange,
Aaron Thompson,
The Evens,
Flipper,
Sight & Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Albert Ayler,
Schoolly D,
Cluster,
Cheater Slicks,
Sixth Finger,
The Trojans,
Zero Boys,
Gong,
Shuggie Otis,
Fluxion,
Skaos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scientists,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fela Kuti,
Ken Boothe,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.