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 Kosovo and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
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 Eli Mardock to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
Infiniti,
Oblivians,
Malaria!,
Bluetip,
Yellowson,
Accadde A,
Grey Daturas,
Skriet,
Barrington Levy,
Thompson Twins,
In Retrospect,
Main Source,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pussy Galore,
Aural Exciters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fat Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chrome,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Guru Guru,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Evens,
Little Man,
Zero Boys,
Roxette,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sam Rivers,
Laurel Aitken,
Charles Mingus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Pretty Things,
Average White Band,
Stereo Dub,
Ultravox,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Hill,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
June Days,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Au Pairs,
Tom Boy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Model 500,
Donald Byrd,
Swell Maps,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-102,
The Vogues,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.