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 Saudi Arabia and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Bobby Byrd to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Neu!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Inner City,
The Index,
The Count Five,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Livin' Joy,
Dark Day,
Patti Smith,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
The Residents,
Q65,
The Velvet Underground,
Country Teasers,
The Kinks,
Nils Olav,
Excepter,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nico,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lindisfarne,
Subhumans,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
The Searchers,
Eli Mardock,
DJ Style,
The Raincoats,
Gang of Four,
Crime,
Black Pus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ossler,
Surgeon,
Babytalk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
Crooked Eye,
These Immortal Souls,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
X-101,
The Offenders,
One Last Wish,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lungfish,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Marmalade,
The Five Americans,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Wyatt,
Rotary Connection,
Hasil Adkins,
Funky Four + One,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.