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 Moldova and from Calgary.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang 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?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sparks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Icehouse,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lakeside,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel,
The Remains,
La Düsseldorf,
Fear,
Lower 48,
Cecil Taylor,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dark Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Motions,
The Saints,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Sneak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yusef Lateef,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The New Christs,
Graham Central Station,
This Heat,
The Modern Lovers,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Womack,
Rapeman,
Rhythm & Sound,
Smog,
Alison Limerick,
Heaven 17,
D'Angelo,
Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Young Marble Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
Grey Daturas,
The Martian,
Patti Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sight & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Technova,
Agent Orange,
Erykah Badu,
Nils Olav,
K-Klass,
Minny Pops,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.