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 Paraguay and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Thee Headcoats to the rap 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Joe Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Section 25,
Jerry's Kids,
D'Angelo,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Morten Harket,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zero Boys,
Lyres,
Cameo,
Ronnie Foster,
The United States of America,
Pussy Galore,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Model 500,
JFA,
The Modern Lovers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Severed Heads,
Subhumans,
Television,
Flash Fearless,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
June Days,
T.S.O.L.,
Reuben Wilson,
Ossler,
John Lydon,
Al Stewart,
L. Decosne,
Tubeway Army,
Tom Boy,
Gang of Four,
Inner City,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Slave,
X-102,
Tres Demented,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Little Man,
Maurizio,
Nirvana,
Lebanon Hanover,
Donny Hathaway,
Chris Corsano,
Sun Ra,
Bad Manners,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maleditus Sound,
Clear Light,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Lightning Bolt,
MC5,
The Five Americans,
Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.