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 Syria and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rock 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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Pantytec,
Sixth Finger,
Eric Copeland,
The Durutti Column,
Scratch Acid,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tom Boy,
Dark Day,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Divine Comedy,
Panda Bear,
Jandek,
Barry Ungar,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bad Manners,
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Stooges,
Tears for Fears,
Archie Shepp,
Massinfluence,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Accadde A,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hashim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Raincoats,
a-ha,
Japan,
Babytalk,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter and Kerry,
Henry Cow,
Ken Boothe,
Yazoo,
Bluetip,
Bronski Beat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tubeway Army,
Metal Thangz,
The Happenings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eden Ahbez,
Mark Hollis,
The Young Rascals,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Brick,
Iggy Pop,
DNA,
Ponytail,
The Fortunes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.