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 Kazakhstan and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Robert Palmer 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 Porter Ricks to the techno 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Loose Ends,
Danielle Patucci,
Gabor Szabo,
Mo-Dettes,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donald Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül II,
Eli Mardock,
The Seeds,
Nico,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
Scrapy,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
The Wake,
Bobby Byrd,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brick,
The Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warren Ellis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maleditus Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
Reuben Wilson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hot Snakes,
Symarip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cluster,
Easy Going,
Suicide,
Newcleus,
The Cure,
Pulsallama,
Sarah Menescal,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Sherman,
Reagan Youth,
Dark Day,
Royal Trux,
Eric Copeland,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.