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 Marshall Islands and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron 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 Kerrie Biddell to the crunk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Patti Smith,
the Association,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Modern Lovers,
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Ronnie Foster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Underground Resistance,
The Skatalites,
The Mojo Men,
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scan 7,
Ten City,
Rotary Connection,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Loose Ends,
John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cramps,
Scientists,
Porter Ricks,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Dawn Penn,
Monks,
Swans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Carl Craig,
The Moody Blues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Agitation Free,
Rod Modell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-102,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Durutti Column,
the Human League,
Minutemen,
Lungfish,
Black Flag,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.