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 Monaco 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rod Modell to the jazz 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Camouflage,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ohio Players,
Judy Mowatt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
These Immortal Souls,
Joe Smooth,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Parry Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Five Americans,
Ultravox,
Marine Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears,
AZ,
Crash Course in Science,
Popol Vuh,
The Real Kids,
Ossler,
Wolf Eyes,
Thee Headcoats,
World's Most,
Siglo XX,
Pantytec,
Pantaleimon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Reuben Wilson,
Bob Dylan,
Q and Not U,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
Nico,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Pagans,
Clear Light,
Grey Daturas,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Buzzcocks,
The Young Rascals,
Alison Limerick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Patti Smith,
a-ha,
Althea and Donna,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.