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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Monochrome Set to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Aswad,
Freddie Wadling,
Darondo,
The Wake,
Warsaw,
Patti Smith,
The Pretty Things,
Slick Rick,
A Certain Ratio,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
The Moleskins,
The Sound,
David Axelrod,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ituana,
Minnie Riperton,
Hashim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Newcleus,
Mark Hollis,
Jacques Brel,
Mr. Review,
The Fortunes,
Saccharine Trust,
The Kinks,
Trumans Water,
Donald Byrd,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Dawn Penn,
X-101,
Crooked Eye,
48th St. Collective,
E-Dancer,
Pulsallama,
The Birthday Party,
Bobbi Humphrey,
June Days,
Curtis Mayfield,
Graham Central Station,
The Divine Comedy,
MC5,
Harry Pussy,
Anakelly,
Al Stewart,
Pagans,
Ten City,
In Retrospect,
Bauhaus,
T. Rex,
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
John Lydon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Johnny Clarke,
Tim Buckley,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.