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 Vanuatu and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Electric Prunes 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Funky Four + One,
Freddie Wadling,
Reuben Wilson,
Morten Harket,
John Lydon,
Bluetip,
Judy Mowatt,
Skaos,
Cheater Slicks,
The Red Krayola,
Massinfluence,
Procol Harum,
Crash Course in Science,
Leonard Cohen,
Howard Jones,
Oblivians,
Fela Kuti,
Country Teasers,
Reagan Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
Khruangbin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Buckinghams,
Kenny Larkin,
The Tremeloes,
Lucky Dragons,
The Last Poets,
Boredoms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nico,
Goldenarms,
Cluster,
Wings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tubeway Army,
Sex Pistols,
Junior Murvin,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
Spoonie Gee,
The Durutti Column,
Laurel Aitken,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sound,
Lakeside,
The Busters,
Swans,
Outsiders,
The Knickerbockers,
The Motions,
Michelle Simonal,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Fad Gadget,
Slave,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.