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 Ukraine and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Boz Scaggs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Skarface,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Marc Almond,
ABBA,
a-ha,
Heaven 17,
Max Romeo,
The Fuzztones,
John Holt,
Barbara Tucker,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
Fear,
James White and The Blacks,
June Days,
Dark Day,
Dennis Brown,
Monks,
Niagra,
Funkadelic,
Hot Snakes,
Ronan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Names,
Tim Buckley,
Pierre Henry,
Wasted Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Camouflage,
Dead Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
the Germs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jawbox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Machine,
Agitation Free,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T. Rex,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
John Coltrane,
Warren Ellis,
The Zeros,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dual Sessions,
Marvin Gaye,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Von Mondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.