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 Peru and from Stockholm.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Johnny Osbourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Make Up,
the Swans,
Liliput,
Charles Mingus,
Lyres,
Mad Mike,
Frankie Knuckles,
Khruangbin,
Lou Christie,
Joey Negro,
Lindisfarne,
Soulsonic Force,
David Axelrod,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
Jeff Mills,
Eddi Front,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Goldenarms,
Country Teasers,
F. McDonald,
Blossom Toes,
Dark Day,
Niagra,
Grey Daturas,
Fluxion,
The Blackbyrds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Severed Heads,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
EPMD,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dirtbombs,
Cheater Slicks,
Young Marble Giants,
Rufus Thomas,
Public Enemy,
Excepter,
Parry Music,
The Sound,
Von Mondo,
Hoover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sällskapet,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
B.T. Express,
The Martian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Arcadia,
John Lydon,
The Durutti Column,
48th St. Collective,
Scott Walker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.