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 Egypt 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Interpol to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Pantytec,
Hot Snakes,
Joy Division,
The Young Rascals,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Los Fastidios,
Rites of Spring,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gories,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fugazi,
Sandy B,
OOIOO,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nils Olav,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Womack,
The Neon Judgement,
Tom Boy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dead C,
Rod Modell,
Cymande,
The Slackers,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Angels of Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bob Dylan,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
Animal Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
Organ,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drexciya,
Accadde A,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Clarke,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pylon,
Slave,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Judy Mowatt,
Tubeway Army,
Ten City,
The Cowsills,
World's Most,
Grauzone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Pus,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.