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 Israel and from New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Liliput 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Essential Logic,
Excepter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Almond,
Nick Fraelich,
Joe Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris Corsano,
the Human League,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Talk Talk,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minor Threat,
Avey Tare,
Blancmange,
New Order,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Magazine,
Reuben Wilson,
Archie Shepp,
Warren Ellis,
Animal Collective,
the Sonics,
Aural Exciters,
U.S. Maple,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Judy Mowatt,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Jacob Miller,
The Pop Group,
The Smoke,
Arab on Radar,
Massinfluence,
Faust,
The Slits,
The Grass Roots,
The Trojans,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joey Negro,
Rufus Thomas,
Nirvana,
Glenn Branca,
Make Up,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DJ Style,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Sugar Minott,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Invisible,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barrington Levy,
Siglo XX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxette,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.