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 Norway and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 Soft Machine to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Associates,
Q65,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barbara Tucker,
Amon Düül,
Jawbox,
Magma,
These Immortal Souls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eden Ahbez,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Stetsasonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Busters,
Cheater Slicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Holt,
Moebius,
Steve Hackett,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Standells,
Drexciya,
Minnie Riperton,
Television,
The Knickerbockers,
The Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker,
The Moleskins,
The Fugs,
Junior Murvin,
Excepter,
Bobby Womack,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Panda Bear,
Byron Stingily,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Sparks,
Pylon,
In Retrospect,
Yusef Lateef,
The Victims,
D'Angelo,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fall,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scion,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.